Rise from the Darkness
by Ronald del Reagan
Summary: In the end, it is only when we have lost everything that we can truly find ourselves. Be it redemption, love, or a second chance, this particular blade-master will stop at nothing to get what he wants.
1. Chapter 1

_**Rise from the Darkness**_

**Music Suggestion: Black Sun- Death Cab for Cutie**

**Chapter 1: ****Drenched in Rain or Blood?**

**A/N: *READ THIS* The chapter below is actually something I have already posted in my other story "League of Oneshots". After heavy consideration, I have decided to adapt it into a full time story. I figured this chapter would be a good precursor for the actual story. For those who have yet to read this, please continue as normal. For those who have already read this, fear not! I already have a second chapter up that is a lot longer (and better imo), so feel free to skip to that, or perhaps reread this if you want to catch up. **

The sky sobbed over Noxus. Its rain pounded the rooftops and alleyways mercilessly, yielding for nothing. A hooded man made his way precariously through the slums, head down and eyes up. It was just another typical day for Talon. Steal and kill, steal and kill. That was all his life had consisted of lately. The days seemed to blend together, each the same as the last. They passed in a blur and before he knew it, he had grown quite the reputation in Noxus. "The Shadow's Blade", they called him. _Heh, what a joke._ As of late, though, his notoriety had caused him to receive attention from actual Noxian guards. These were not the typical bull spewing guild members that normally approached him. No, these were trained professionals. Still, they didn't stand much of a chance against him, but they did pose some big questions. If Noxus was sending their own men after him did they want to kill him? Recruit him? What was next, an assassin of his own caliber? A battalion? _Who knows. _If they wanted to play games with him then he would play right along. But he would be playing his own game on his own terms.

He made his way through the slums. Talon hated the name 'slums', it didn't really do the lowest district of Noxus any justice. A more appropriate name would be 'the hellhole your soul gets sent to to erode away.' And it had done just that. He never once in his life considered himself a good man, but he used to be...better. He used to look at the people in the slums and feel a strong sense of longing. Longing to escape this place, this _hell, _and make a life for himself. But now, after all this bloodshed, after all the death he had seen, he looked at the people in the slums with nothing but disgust. He came from absolutely nothing, against every odd that fate could throw at him, and he had made a name for himself. He had found a talent, his talent, that no one else could match him with. Well, not in this shit hole anyway.

The hooded Talon made his way through the alleyways and run down streets. While most people went for cover to escape the downpour, he welcomed it. Rain provided two things: Cover and a distraction. Both were necessary for an assassin. Little did he know, a woman with white hair had been following him the entire time.

"If everything goes according to plan, this 'Shadow's Blade' will be captured today, and brought straight to you and I." A female voice said from a dimly lit room, a fireplace being the only source of light.

"I wouldn't count on it my dear." Came a man's voice, standing across from the woman.

She stepped further into the light illuminating from the fire, revealing her entire figure. "Hmm?" She pondered aloud. "Why would that be, dear? He is being surrounded as we speak. Those soldiers of yours will have him cornered."

"But that's just the thing, Leblanc, he IS cornered. That is precisely why my intuition tells me he will escape us yet." The man said.

"I don't see your reasoning, Swain. Care to explain?" Leblanc asked.

"When a man is cornered…" Swain trailed off, stepping closer to Leblanc and into the light, revealing his dark green robes and cane. "He has only one option. He must fight. There is no place to run. He cannot retreat, he cannot run left nor right. No… He can only go forward. He can only fight those that have cornered him. And if I have inferred anything from watching this man over the last few weeks, it is that he does not fear us. Those few individuals in this city who don't fear us are the only ones that can best us. In the face of our soldiers, he will not falter. The real question is, can our beloved commander even put a scratch on him? That is really what I want to find out from this little experiment. I want to see how she fares against a man with nothing to lose, not like the typical braindead Demacians we send her to kill. He will fight with nothing held back, like a true warrior. Believe me, he will be captured and become mine… In time."

"You mean Riven?" Leblanc wondered. "She seems to be a most promising soldier, love, I believe she will fare finely."

"Riven has too pure a soul. I have seen the way she serves me, the way she kills. She does it out of loyalty, to me and to Noxus. Soldiers like her can only go so far, you see. They are limited by a code of ethics and morals, unfortunately. But this man, the 'Blade's Shadow', as they call him, I have seen his work. I have firsthand witnessed the bodies of his victims collecting in the gutters. I have seen the way he kills. It is not for the glory of Noxus, nor is it out of any sort of loyalty. He kills because he can, because he's good at it, because he _must_. Every man has a wild beast inside him, but only a select few actually let that beast surface and show its true nature. This remarkable specimen has gone above and beyond that. He has fully allowed the beast within himself to take control, and now he is a rampant wolf, killing whatever he can whenever he can."

"Oh Swain." Leblanc held her face in her hands sarcastically. "You always were so poetic. But what is your plan for him? Surely he cannot be of use when he is so dangerous and unpredictable, or 'wild' as you say."

"Its simple." Swain said matter of factly. "I merely want to put a collar on him. I don't want him to stop being a wolf. That is what makes him strong. All I want is to make him… _My _wolf."

Talon could feel eyes on him. There was no rationale for anyone to be stalking him at the moment, nor was there any evidence that such a perpetrator even existed. But after being hunted daily for years now, he tended to trust those 'gut' feelings.

It was no different this time. The skin on the back of his neck stood up, and he could feel stares landing on his back. He could not pinpoint from where, exactly, but figured he might as well go into the open and get this over with. If it was another guild member, which it most likely was, then he would bait him out and dispose of him rather quickly. No sense in drawing it out, for Talon was not one for drama.

He strutted to an open courtyard that was emptied of people and stood in the center, the rain making it difficult to see in any direction. He vaguely felt his hands grip the blades hidden under his sleeves, ready to slide into action in a matter of milliseconds. He took a deep breath and shouted, "Come out and face me, coward!"

And he almost immediately regretted it. Sure enough, his stalkers had come out to face him, but they were no guild members. At first he was confused when the first few people came into view. They adorned red and black armor, fitted with helmets and the whole lot. Their weapons looked heavy, ranging from battle axes the size of his entire body to maces that looked like they weighed several hundreds of pounds. These were no guilders, these were soldiers. Not the kind that had been giving him trouble lately either, those were just petty street guards, but these were legitimately trained killers. He took a step back and took inventory. It appeared to be 5 soldiers in total, 3 male, and 2 female. The three males held relatively large weapons, one of the women held a pair of slim but deadly looking knives, and the last one held a glowing green sword bigger than any of the other soldiers' weapons. He turned to make an escape, knowing he was outmatched. It is better to live a coward than die a hero. Unfortunately, he realized how poor a choice he had made to come here. The courtyard was surrounded by large walls on three of its four sides, meaning the only way to get out was straight ahead, which was exactly where the soldiers were standing. He snarled, realizing that there was only way out of this.

"Which one of you is the leader?" Talon asked calmly. The girl with the gigantic sword stepped forward, noiselessly.

"Ah, so its you." Talon said, gesturing to the girl that had stepped forward. "Do tell, have you come to kill me today?"

"No." The white hair girl said. "We have orders to bring you back to high command alive, whatever the costs."

"That's too bad…" Talon responded, his mouth curling up into a small smile. "Because if you wanted to just kill me this would've been a lot easier." Like a switch, he leapt into action. He flicked one of the knives hidden in his sleeves to the outermost Soldier. The man obviously had not been prepared for Talon to make such an aggressive move so quickly, because he took it in the throat without even making an attempt to dodge. The soldier dropped to his knees, clutching at his now opened throat with blood pouring out. The other four looked at their fallen comrade for a moment, but Talon did not wait. He dove straight forward, slamming into another one of the soldiers. He was caught off guard, and Talon used his momentum and body weight to fully topple the man to the ground. Swiftly, he used his other blade to deliver a blow into one of the weak points in his armor. The man's rib cage was punctured deeply, and the blade made its way into his lung. His eyes widened as an excruciating pain overtook him, and he started coughing violently. The other three soldiers had reacted now, charging Talon. Talon was quick to respond though, performing a backflip off the downed man and landing a good distance away from the oncoming soldiers.

Talon stared at them for a moment as they charged forward. Time seemed to slow down as he made calculations on whom to attack and whom to dodge. This happened everytime he was in the heat of battle, and he loved it. Because in times like these, when his life was on the line, he truly felt more alive than ever.

The woman with two knives got close to him. She swung forward with both blades, to which he sidestepped. The man with the battle axe swung his weapon downwards at Talon's chest. He nimbly rolled to the side, and kicked the man's leg out from under him. He reached behind his back for his last hidden weapon, which was his signature arm blade that he had gotten after a raid on a guild that was most insistent on him joining. Equipping his arm blade, he brought it up just in time to counter a heavy blow from the girl with the large sword. The force of the blow knocked him back, and he staggered for a few steps before regaining his composure. The man he had kicked down had begun getting back up and both women charged him once again. He ran straight to them and ducked under their swings simultaneously. He did not stop his stride, though, as he continued running to the disarmed man still pushing himself off the ground. Talon kneed the man in the chin, causing his body to flip over and him to land on his back. Swiftly, Talon brought his blade down on the man's neck, decapitating him.

He turned around to face his last two attackers. The woman with both knives had began running at him while the woman with the sword stared at her newly beheaded comrade in disbelief. Talon dodged her swings easily. She seemed angry, and Talon had learned that it was never a good thing to fight with emotions. Each of her swings were sloppy and lackluster. Talon merely brought his free hand to her helmet and hit it off quite hard. She crumpled to the ground and dropped both of her blades. She looked up at Talon with hate in her eyes. He grasped her chin quite roughly with his hand and stared at her. She had long brown locks and green eyes. He raise his blade in the air.

"Such a pretty face, what a shame." He said. At this point, the girl with the huge sword had broken out of her trance and noticed what was happening.

"Miranda! No!" She yelled, sprinting towards the girl in The Blade's Shadow's grasp. It was all for naught, though, as his blade came down into her chest. Her lips quivered for a moment, before her body went limp and she face first into the stone ground.

Talon looked up at the last remaining soldier whom had stopped running mid stride and stood there, staring at him in disbelief. He smirked, relishing in his almost certain victory.

"Tell me, how does it feel as a leader to watch your entire squad killed before your eyes?" He said sadistically.

"You...You… You murdered them!' She spat, violently shaking with rage.

"What is your name, girl?" He asked.

"Riven is my name and fuck what Swain said! I'm going to kill your right here and now!"

"Ah, ah, ah" Talon said, waving his finger in the air for emphasis. "You seem to think I'm the bad guy here. Let us not forget that YOU came here to attack ME! That is the only reason I had to kill your pathetic excuses for soldiers."

"They were good people!" She yelled.

"Perhaps I should send you to the same place I sent them!" He retaliated, spring forward at him, expecting a quick victory. It would not be quick, though. Riven fought well, better than the rest. Unlike many others, she seemed to thrive off her anger. She harnessed it and used it to her advantage. After what felt like hours, the two finally separated for a moment, both trying to catch their breath. They both had received their fair share of cuts and lacerations, but Riven had taken the better of one of Talon's swings to her midsection, and she was bleeding profusely. He looked up and grinned at her.

"I am really enjoying this," He said slightly surprised. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time, but, unfortunately, all good things come to an end." Talon raced at her, arblade outstretched. She heaved her sword up to block it, but he was too fast, and she was too exhausted. His blade found its mark into her left shoulder, digging deep into her skin. She let out a cry of pain before falling to her knees and dropping her sword. Her vision started to blur as she accepted the inevitable end. It never came, though, as she opened her eyes to see Talon putting his arm blade behind his back.

"You fight like a young man, with nothing held back. Its admirable, but irrelevant. However, you are too much fun to kill just now. We will meet again soon, Riven." That was the last thing she heard before passing out. Talon gathered his blades as well as the blades of the brunette woman before strutting back to his home.

_Four more bodies for the gutter._


	2. Chapter 2

_**To Those Who Gaze Upon the Black Sky**_

**Music Suggestion: Roads Untraveled- Linkin Park**

**Chapter 2: ****Death? It's Just a Word.**

"Please! Please! I have a wife! Kids! Don't kill me! I'll do anything!" The voice came from a middle aged man cornered in a dark alley. It was late, perhaps one or two in the morning. Noxian guards would be on patrol, but not at this part of the city. Not in the slums. The man was cowering before an imposing figure. He stood tall over the pleading male, with a dark demeanor and cowl hiding his face. He fingered his blade in hand, looking the man he was robbing in the eyes.

"I-I don't have much money… B-But I can give you what I have! Just let me go!"

"Show me." Those had been the only words the robber has said so far, yet they held more weight than any of the blabbering nonsense from the terrified man whom had just reached into his pocket. He excavated 7 coins, gold in nature, and held them close to his assualtant.

"This is all I have, please, just take it and go! I won't tell anyon-"

The man was cut off, quite literally, as his mugger swung his blade at the man, fast enough that he had thought it was just a shadow. In a way, it was. The hand extending the precious metals fell to the ground, detached from the rest of his body. The man took a second to process what had happened, then began screaming hysterically.

"AHHHH! MY HAND! FUCK!" He yelled, hoping, praying, someone would come, though he knew no one would.

"I'm not going to kill you because I fear you would tell someone." The smallest of grins crossed across the imposing man's features. "I'm going to kill you because I can."

The frightened man heard every word, every syllable, even though his own yelling should have drowned it out. Fast as lightening, the mugger swung his blade once more, this time silencing his muggee. With a guttural moan, the man slumped over, throat now cleanly slit open. His last seconds of life were spent staring into cold, uncaring brown eyes. Then, he was no more than another corpse for the gutter.

Talon searched the dead man's body and found a few more coins stuffed away in his front pocket. _They always lie, don't they? _He thought. Collecting his loot, he stalked away, never turning back once.

…

Talon kicked his ragged boots upon the worn down desk in his shack. He discovered this small abandoned building after tracking down the headquarters of a particularly irritating guild that just wouldn't stop trying to recruit him. After dispatching of them, he decided their place could be a nice home, and ever since it had become his haven. He didn't bother with the upkeep; he had no time for such trivial matters. Accordingly, the walls had become cracked and faded, the floors adorned with weeds shooting through them, the roof occasionally leaking a mysterious black liquid, to which he didn't even _want _to know its origin. Despite its grotesque appearance, he quite fancied it. In its own way, it suit him perfectly. No one ever came in, save for the occasional homeless person, which were abundant in the slums. Sometimes he would kill them, sometimes he would let them go. It depended on his mood. He was never prejudice nor picked favorites. All people were the same to him. Black, white, man, woman, young, elderly. No matter the race or sex, they always died when he swung his blades. In that right, they were equal.

Talon flipped a few coins the air, feeling their weight. Today had been good. He had collected 10 pieces of gold, a feat he hadn't accomplished often. It was rare than anyone in the slums even had gold on them; most of them carried brass or the occasional silver. But gold was quite the catch, and he pondered how he would spend it. Perhaps he could buy a new weapon, but in all honesty he had an abundance of those off guild members and street guards. That reminded him of the daggers he had obtained from the female Noxian soldier the other day. He pulled them from his secret cache to inspect further. They were slim and light, but sharp enough to slice the hair off his arm. The grips were made from fine ebony wood and the blades were a dark black metal, perhaps iron. He liked the look of them, so much so that he thought he just might try them out tonight. Nothing breaks a new pair of blades in better than some good ol' flesh cutting.

Talon remained with his feet upon the desk for awhile longer, mostly reminiscing of his encounter with those soldiers. It hadn't been an easy fight by any means. It seemed that day the world just wanted to throw every disadvantage at him possible. He was an assassin by nature, meaning his strong suit was surprise attacks and one on one fights. Both of those had been impossible, since it was five on one and he was backed into a corner. Fortunately for him, he had gotten away relatively unscathed, save for a few cuts from the girl with white hair. _What was her name again? River? Ah, fuck it, who cares. _Of course there was also the fact that his adversaries were Noxian soldiers. Better equipment aside, he could tell that these people were trained for years to fight. The difference between them and guild members was enormous. The Noxian street guards were hardly even a problem for him, but these actual soldiers merely strode in to his territory and tried to take him captive. Him! Of all people! It frustrated Talon, the amount of disrespect it showed. Soldiers or not, it would take at least some level of strategic intelligence to capture him, much less kill him. Not just going in and swinging their blades willy nilly like idiots.

Glancing through a broken window, Talon saw the moon rising high in the sky. _Shit, I let time get away from me. _He could have sworn only a few minutes ago it was daylight, but now the absence of the sun cast a jet black blanket on the town. Perfect camouflage for hunting. He slung his cloak onto his shoulders, equipped both of his new knives under his sleeves, strapped his arm blade behind his back, and finally left his abode whilst pulling down his cowl. He had plans for tonight. Big plans.

…

Riven didn't particularly like these kinds of events. Balls were fun and all, but in her opinion they were just an opportunity for the big wigs of Noxus to brag about their infrastructure and flaunt their money. Regardless, she was one of Swain's commanders, so if he went, so did she. Currently, Swain sat at a round table with several other important public figures, such as the treasurer and secretary, and discussed what seemed to be politics. She watched him and his unchanging expression when someone gave him a hard question to answer. Instead of getting flustered or giving a bad response, he took it all in stride, calculating for a second before producing a stellar answer. It was admirable. She looked up to him very much, as a General and as a wise man. He was stern, but only for a good cause. That only made her surprised when she got back after her most recent failure. She was assigned to capture an infamous assassin they called 'The Blade's Shadow', who kept to the slums. It seemed like a relatively easy task, especially with four of her best soldiers at her side, but she had massively underestimated him and his speed. Upon seeing his figure, she immediately recognized him as not only someone who kept to the slums, but someone who had grown up there. All the people from the slums had a certain atmosphere around themselves. It wasn't something conceivable by the naked eye, but rather something that was more of a feeling. Their eyes had the look of seeing events so inhuman that they had lost all sympathy and care. They walked with a certain uncaring attitude to the world around them. She supposed after seeing so much tragedy in the streets, their hearts had become immune to it. She herself had been on a few missions in the slums and it disgusted her. The people were dirty and dying, the buildings were decrepit and withered, and the streets were dirty and cracked. It was a place she would rather not go back to, if it all possible. The Blade's Shadow had acted fast, which impressed her. He surveyed his situation quickly, and upon realizing he could not escape without killing her soldiers and she, he sprung into action. All of that had only taken him a matter of seconds. Then he delivered a deadly accurate knife to the wind pipe of her friend and swordsman, Hyde. While they glanced at their comrade in shock, he took advantage and barreled into another one of her comrades, Maurice, and punctured his lungs with that damned blade. He would slowly die from a lack of oxygen. Then her axeman, Bennett, had been decapitated. Then one of her closest friends, Miranda…

"Riven!" She finally lifted from her trance as she looked to the man calling her name. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost or somethin'."

"Sorry, Mason, just daydreaming." She said to her fellow commander. He had messy blonde hair and blue eyes, with a well defined build and slightly scarred face, and was in his late twenties. Normally, he was dressed in full battle armor when she saw him and sported his spear, but tonight he was wearing a tuxedo, which she had to admit looked quite good on him.

"You look great by the way." He said, cocking a sly smile. Riven stood up and did a twirl, showing off her deep navy maroon that revealed just a small amount of cleavage.

"I _better_ look great, I spent hours picking this damn thing out!" She said, laughing a bit. "I may know my way around a sword, but when it comes to shopping I'm as clueless as Sanchez."

They both shared a laugh. "Wanna get some drinks?" He asked.

"I wasn't planning on drinking tonight… But perhaps I can reconsider… Ah, what the hell, a couple couldn't hurt." Riven said, nodding her head in agreeance.

"Great!" I'll go get us some." He said happily.

Commander Mason returned soon with a handle of Jack Sandals, one of the more favored whiskeys in Noxus, and poured each of them a drink. After a few drinks and meaningless small talk, Mason ventured onto a touchy subject.

"So, how'd your mission the other day go? I heard you had to catch some street rat."

Riven looked down, having the memories of her comrades flooding her head. Most commanders were strict and distant from their troops, but Riven tried to build a familial relationship with all of her soldiers. The way she saw it, if they were going to be fighting and dying together, they might as well be friends.

Mason immediately noticed the look of sadness spread across her face and felt instant regret. "Sorry, sorry." He said, rubbing his hands over one another. "I wasn't sure of the outcome so I thought I'd ask you, but if you don't wanna talk about it, that's fine."

Riven hesitated, but soon gave in. "No, no its okay." She really needed to vent to someone about the incident. It had been bothering for the last few days now. If she told a lower ranking soldier they might lose faith in her since she was defeated by a lowly thug, and if she told a higher ranking official, they would only express disdain and disappointment. Mason was perfect, though, since he was the same rank as her and seemed to be an easy going person for the most part.

Riven took a deep breath before continuing. "We tracked him for about half a day. His movements were good, that of someone skilled in the art of escape. Seems he's been chased before. He always stuck to corridors or alleys, out of sight and with many routes to flee. My soldiers hadn't thought much of him. We've all had a mission at some point to get rid of a loose cannon in the slums since they arise relatively often, but something about this man was unsettling to me. At the time I didn't understand what it was,but I just had a bad feeling in my gut. Eventually he made his way to an open courtyard and taunted us."

"Wait wait wait." Mason said, holding up his hand. "You're telling me this guy realized you and your squad was following him?"

"That's correct." Riven confirmed.

"For a man to identify a group of Noxus' finest tracking him… He's impressive."

"Indeed." Riven agreed, he had been quite extraordinary. "Anyway, he led us to an open courtyard. We decided that it would be the best opportunity to confront him since he had no immediate means of escape. I thought we could take him easily… I was _so _wrong." Riven put her head in her hands, quaking silently at just the thought of her friends' morbid deaths. After a brief moment, she composed herself and continued. "He charged us. It was baffling to say the least. He had no armor and mediocre weaponry, and yet he charged headstrong into five Noxian soldiers fully equipped with the finest armor and weaponry this city can supply."

"So how did it turn out?" Mason asked, genuinely curious at this point.

"He- He killed them. All of them. I'm not too sure how… He was just so fast. I couldn't even comprehend the situation until three of them were already dead, and by the time I came to my senses he was already closing in on Miranda… I… I… I got them killed!" She said heatedly, closing her eyes as she felt hot tears rushing to them. Seconds later, she felt a hand on her own. Looking up, she saw Mason grasping her hand. It wasn't in a romantic sense, either, but a comforting one. He stared into her dark maroon eyes with his piercing blue ones.

"Riven, pull yourself together. Its not just me and you here. There are a lot of important people at this ball, and your reputation would be slandered if they saw you like this. We're commanders. No matter what decision we make, our own people are going to hurt. It comes with the job. You have to move on from it." He clasped both hands behind his head and looked up in thought. "I remember the first time I led as a commander. We were heading towards a Demacian outpost near the Rusk Mountains. I was foolish and led us straight into an ambush. Thirty of my men died. Thirty. And it was all my fault. I couldn't bear to look at the face in the mirror after that. I had destroyed their lives, widowed their wives, orphaned their children. But time heals all wounds. You have to realize that part of being a commander is making hard decisions. Any man or woman following you into battle is fully prepared to die. Never forget that."

Riven looked sadly back into his eyes. "Thanks, Mason. Really. That helped a lot. I needed it." She sniffled and brought a napkin to dry her eyes. "Okay… Let me start again. After this man finished with my troops he engaged me. I figure we fought for about twenty minutes or so, and he was good. Really good. His fighting style was something that I had never seen before. He lacked the finesse of an Ionian, conviction of a Demacian, or brute force of a Noxian. But he was just so damn… relentless. His strikes were heavy yet fast. I could block rather easily at first, but they just kept coming, and they were so fucking _vicious. _Oddly, as the fight got longer, his blows got heavier. Instead of tiring, he only swung harder, cleaved faster, dodged quicker. As I wore from fatigue, he thrived from… I don't know really. Its still a mystery to me how he did it. I had recieved my fair share of cuts and lacerations and he buried the hatchet when he impaled my shoulder." Riven gingerly brought her fingers to her bandaged right shoulder. "The pain and blood loss got to me and I dropped, defeated by a street rat."

"So how are you still here?" Mason asked, perplexed.

"He let me live. I'm not too sure why. I heard him say something but the blood loss had gotten to my head and I was blacking out so I'm not sure what it was. I still remember one thing though…" Riven's eyes widened and she grimaced.

"What was it?" Mason asked.

"His eyes." She said, recollecting those last few images before the world faded to black. "His eyes were so… cold. They had been the entire fight. When he was in battle with me, his body had been tense, but his eyes couldn't have been more uninterested. When he killed Miranda, they were absolutely uncaring. He didn't kill her slow enough to take pleasure from it, nor fast enough to show mercy. Simply at the perfect speed to show indifference. That was the scariest part about him. To him it seemed killing was second nature. A chore. Something that didn't have any weight to it. I didn't know what to make of it, and I still don't. All I know is, I could recognize those eyes from a mile away. And I pray to whatever God watches over this fucked up world that I don't have to."

"Jeesh. I heard General Du Couteau and General Swain talking about some guy in the slums earlier, but I didn't think he was _that _good." Mason responded, baffled by Riven's story. He had seen her fight in battles dozens of times, and he had fought against her himself in sparring sessions. Her skills were nothing to be laughed at. On the contrary, he thought she was one of Noxus' finest. For her to be taken down by a random slum dweller was a bit unsettling.

"I- I think I need some fresh air. I'll be back Mason, try not to drink all the Jack." Riven said, giving a weak smile.

"No promises!" She heard him shout over his shoulder.

…

The night was his veil.

Talon skulked down the streets incredibly cautiously. He had long since exited the slums and entered the higher class of Noxus. This meant that guards were more prevalent and more competent. Luckily, his ink black cloak made it easy for him to melt into the shadows. It had been around half an hour of sneaking around, but he hoped in the end his prize would be well worth it. Things were going as planned so far.

_Turn one corner… Walk 50 paces… Left at the streetlamp… 20 more paces and… There!_

The directions his contact had given him were correct. Directly in front of him sat a large mansion illuminated in lights and gated in on all sides. If his information was correct, and his information was _always _correct, then a large scale ball for generals and higher ups in Noxus should be going on inside that very mansion. He was also informed that people inside sported valuable metals on their hands and necks. What was it called again? Jewelry? That sounded right. With his pickpocketing skills, he figured he could make a fortune at this ball tonight. Women and men alike would feel the wrath of his sly fingers. The last thing to do was to equip his attire.

See, there is no way Talon could have blended in this garb at the ball. He knew how the 'upper class' snobs liked to dress, and for how he would play their game. Dropping his small bag to the ground, he reached in and pulled out the components for a dashing tuxedo complete with a red tie.

Talon grinned, thinking of the face of the shop owner whom he'd robbed this suit of only hours earlier. It held so much fear and cower it was pitiful. If you are going to live, then there is no need to be scared. If you are going to die, then what's the point of being scared? Perhaps everybody didn't see things in black and white so much as he did. It took him some time to actually put the suit on correctly, since he had little to no experience with these sorts of things. Eventually, he worked it out and even managed to tie the tie correctly. With his cowl removed, he ran a hand through his messy hair. _I don't even remember the last time I've gone out without my cowl… Good thing these idiots have never seen my face._

Slipping his new pair of daggers under his sleeves, Talon quickly scaled the iron fence and leapt over its top. For a commoner, it wouldn't have been possible to climb an eleven foot fence, but for Talon it was all too easy. There were less guards than he thought would be on the outside of the premises. With little effort he evaded their droning patrols and found his way to the front of the mansion. He watched the large double doors that appeared to be the main entrance for 10 minutes. There were no guards by it, and it seemed almost too easy to just walk on. Could it be a trap? Could he have been set up? Talon mewled it over for a few seconds before deciding _fuck it._

The heavy doors opened effortlessly and Talon made his way inside. No one was in sight yet, so he merely followed the red carpet below his feet, hoping it would bring him somewhere worth his time. Soon enough, he heard loud voices and rambunctious antics close, and figured he was near the ball room. Turning a corner, he was met with a huge hall, filled with various tables of people, a dance floor, a bar, and even a DJ. _Holy shit, this is the real deal. _Upon further inspection, he saw that people were in fact wearing gold and diamonds on their necks and hands, confirming his suspicions.

Talon certainly hadn't overdressed. While he didn't look shabby by any means, the people's clothes here were just downright outrageous. They had brightly colored suits, dresses that stretched several feet under their legs, and clothes so revealing it was as if they weren't wearing any at all. Just as he started to make his way further into the room, he bumped into another body and fell to the ground.

"I'm so sorry! I wasn't really watching where I was going!" Came a feminine voice from above him. He growled and looked up, debating whether it he should kill the girl or not, until he got a good look at her face. White hair, maroon eyes, petite body that held a helluva lot more strength than met the eyes. Fuck, it was her. The commander he had battled against the other day.

His luck _fucking _sucked.

Quickly, Talon stood up and brushed himself off, turning his heel and hoping he could just walk away from the girl. It would be bad, like, really fucking bad if she realized who he was right now. Seconds later, he felt the grip of death on his arm from the girl.

"I didn't catch your name? I don't think I've seen you around here before." She said.

He sighed and turned around, facing the girl completely now. "The name's Talon."

"Talon huh? Like a bird's talon? That's weird!" She remarked.

"Look I really have to get going so-" He started.

"Wait a second." She eyed him carefully, staring intently into his pupils. "I've seen you somewhere…"

Talon vaguely felt his hidden blades fall into his hands.

_And I've seen you somewhere as well, commander._

**A/N: there u go. This shit is like 4k words, but I plan that to be *around* the normal size of chapters for this story. If you haven't caught on, this is a split perspective story, meaning it will be told both from Riven and Talon's perspective. Some chapters it may be all Talon, some it may be all Riven, some may be both. Reviewerino plz, i need some motivation to write another behemoth like this one. FYI, italics are Talon's thought. kthxbye.**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Rise from the Darkness**_

**Music Suggestion: Heretic- Avenged Sevenfold**

**Chapter 3: This isn't a tragedy. Its just a new beginning. **

This fucking sucked.

No, really. Talon's streak of bad luck had officially just hit its apex.

As if his miserable life hadn't been difficult enough, fate decided to rake him over the coals yet again.

He just had to bump into her, quite literally, in a place filled with Noxian Generals and their finest soldiers.

He _may _be able to take a few of them out. But an army?

No. Chance.

So now he had come to an impasse.

Either he killed the white haired commander, causing the remainder of soldiers to kill him. He may be fast, but not _that _fast.

Or he ran, in which case they would surely give chase.

If he was in the slums, escape would have been an easy option. He knew every alleyway, every secret tunnel, every scalable building. They had long been burned into his memory.

But he knew almost none of the architecture of the higher district. And they surely did. They lived here, after all.

Fleeing would result in capture, and he had committed an enormous amount of crimes throughout his days. He would easily be sentenced to execution. Or worse.

Hell, even if he did get away, many people had seen his face by now, including the white haired woman who currently stood in front of him, staring incredulously at his eyes. He would have to leave Noxus. Permanently.

That simply wouldn't do. The slums of Noxus were his domain, his haven. They had not been kind to him throughout the years, but one does not simply abandon their home. Even Talon.

Besides, there was no other city-state he could move to and resume his current line of work. Demacia and Piltover didn't have a lower district like Noxus. At least not to the same extent of the slums. Noxus turned a blind eye to the crimes committed in the slums, because, well, it was the only way to survive down there. Hardly anyone had an actual source of income, let alone revenue. Stealing and killing was simply the way of life, and Talon thrived because of it.

Zaun was a dangerous wasteland, and although Talon considered himself a decent assassin, he didn't quite like the idea of living there. If he didn't die from the locals, surely he would from the poisonous gases that flooded the region.

Ionia? Forget that. They would skin a person like him alive since he would directly violate their preachings of peace and balance and all that other useless bullshit.

No, Noxus was the only place for him.

_So what the fuck do I do? Every outcome possible ends in failure._

An idea came to his head, one that he would have to use as a last resort. The only shimmer of hope he had was to resume their conversation and pray that she would not recognize him. She hadn't seen his face, right? Perhaps there was a chance yet.

Deciding to bite the bullet, Talon left his thoughts and came back to reality.

…

"Huh?" he said plainly.

"What do you mean 'huh'?" Riven asked, glaring daggers into him. "Have you even listened to anything I've said for the last minute?"

"Sorry," He chuckled. "I zoned out. I get pretty nervous at these sort of things. Its actually my first time attending a ball like this."

Her face lit up. "So you're new in the military?"

"Uhhh… Yeah, you could say that." He put a hand behind his head.

"In that case, which General are you working under?" She asked.

And that was the moment Talon's heart sank.

_Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Think think think. THINK!_

He tried to will his mind to think of a famous General. Any would do. But he had lived on the streets all his life. Reading and hearing stories about famous Generals was a luxury he could not afford.

"Uhhhh…" He trailed off.

"It isn't a difficult question. " Riven said, getting more and more suspicious.

"Well, I…"

Slowly, her hands made their way to her sword's hilt. A brief look of shock crossed her face as she felt nothing but cold air by her side. She had worn a dress to this event, and even though she had wanted to bring her sword, Swain had told her it would be a breach of chivalry.

She really regretted that she hadn't brung it now, when the man responsible with her friends' gruesome deaths stood before her.

"You know, I thought you looked really familiar when I saw you."

Talon slowly slid a blade from his sleeve and carefully into his hand. The girl had yet to notice it.

"When you actually engaged me in conversation, I thought there was no way you could be the man who I had initially mistaken you for."

His grip tightened, knuckles turning white.

"You almost fooled me, too. But those eyes of yours give it all away."

He staggered a foot and slightly put a bend in his knees, waiting, like a predator for its prey.

"But I can see it now. I remember you. You're the criminal that killed my whole squad, aren't you? The man Noxus want ever so much?"

He sprung, like a piston, and in a moment his blade pressed to her throat and his face was uncomfortably close to hers. He clamped his free hand over her mouth before she could say anything more and hoped no one had noticed. His back blocked the view most of the party had of them, so if luck could be on his side for just once, he may be able to pull this off unnoticed.

"If you don't do anything stupid, I won't kill you. I just want to leave this place, okay? Can I trust you won't do anything?" He whispered into her ear.

At this close of a proximity, she could feel the immense heat radiating off of his body. It was a stark contrast to his cold eyes.

She glared at him with angry eyes and murmured something that sounded a lot like "fuck you", but came out more as "shuck you" due to his hand covering her mouth.

He sighed. "Look, I get it. You must really hate me for killing your friends. Hell, If I had friends, I may even be able to empathize with you a bit. But don't call for backup after I release you. I can tell you're a woman with honor. Fight me another day on better terms. Don't reduce yourself to cowardice."

Her eyes still remained angry, but seeing that he had no other option, and coupled with the fact that the longer he held this position the higher the chances of someone seeing were, he reluctantly removed his grip over her mouth and slowly brought his knife to his pocket. He turned on his heel and slowly walked off. After a few steps and no incident, he smiled. Perhaps luck had shone down on him this evening. Perhaps once in his shitty life fate had actually threw him a bone.

But then it all shattered in one fell swoop.

"Guards! Seize that man!" He heard the woman yell from behind him.

He didn't even turn around to confirm if he was being pursued, instead choosing to break into a sprint and round the corner. He heard footsteps behind him and yelling, so he ran even faster, eyes looking for an exit. A pair of heavily armed soldiers came out from the door in front of him, so he did a 180 and was met with several other soldiers running towards him. To his side was a window, and although he was on the third floor, he decided it was time to do something desperate.

The window shattered as he slammed his weight into it and felt gravity's effects pull him closer to the ground. He barely had enough time to get his feet under him before he hit the ground with a painful thud. A cry of pain escaped his lips, and he grasped his calf which had a very large shard of glass embedded into it.

"He's injured, hurry!" Came from a guard who was staring down from the window.

Quickly, he pulled himself to his feet, and limped as fast as he could to the gate, ignoring the sharp pain in his leg.

…

"Riven!" Swain said sternly, voice edged with irritation. "What is the meaning of this?"

"General! Its him! The man from the slums!" She responded, exasperated.

Swain's eyes widened just a bit. "The Blade's Shadow…?"

"Yes! We have to kill him!" Riven said hysterically.

A smile crossed Swain's old features. "This is just too perfect. He seems to have fallen right into my lap." Swain cleared his throat. "Soldiers!" He said loudly, capturing the attention of the remainder of warriors at the ball. "It is imperative you capture this man! Alive! If any of you kill him, I will personally detach your limbs from your body and let beatrice feast on your innards! Are we clear?!" His voice demanded respect, and the soldiers most certainly respected, or at the very least feared, Noxus' most renowned general.

"Sir yes sir!" The soldier said in unison, then departed to search frantically for the man.

An exhausted guard ran up to Swain. "General!" He said, trying to catch his breath. "The man who escaped is injured. Seems he ruffed his leg up."

"Excellent. Riven, inform the squad leaders of this, then report back to me." Swain said.

"Sir? You would not have me out there looking for him?" She asked, confused by his decision.

"If you found him you would kill him, or he would kill you. Either way its a loss I'm not willing to take."

"Sir I urge you to reconsider-" She started.

"No, my decision is final. Follow your orders, commander." Swain said resolutely.

"Yes, sir."

...

Talon ungracefully came to a screeching stop in a dark alleyway. He looked around for any means of concealment, an abandoned building, secret tunnel, hell, he'd even take a putrid dumpster at this point. Unfortunately, the more civil side of Noxus didn't provide such luxuries. Building didn't get abandoned here. Rather, they were renovated quickly and sold to the next entrepreneur looking to start a successful business. Tunnels were unique to the slums, mostly due to the fact that almost none of the people here had any use for them. Dumpsters? These people held their heads way too high for such cut rate things.

He heard the shouts of men. They were close, very close. Feeling the dark grip of desperation, he attempted to scale the side of a building. Finding a foothold, he pulled his injured leg up and put his weight onto it. Immediately he was met with a burning pain in his calf. The shard of glass that had made its home in his leg had long been discarded, but the wound had yet to stop bleeding profusely. Trying his best to ignore the pain, Talon climbed half his way up the wall. But it was too much. It was all too much. His plan, the commander, the pain. He could feel his hands slipping, his mind blurring white from the pain.

_Not good._

And then he fell. His hands skid away from the ledge and he felt himself plummeting. The fall itself wasn't too bad, but what came after was much, much worse. He landed on his lower back, and it took the brunt of the impact. His body rebounded off the ground once and then landed again with a sickening thud. The shouts had gotten closer, sounding mere feet away at this point.

He didn't care.

His world got dark, eyes teetering between squinted and closed. His ears rung a high pitch, deafening him. He felt warm liquid he could only associate with blood pouring from his back and down his legs.

_There goes the warranty on this suit._

He vaguely felt hands grip him and drag him off, but he had no idea to where. It did not matter now. What only mattered was how he was going to escape. And escape he would.

His head spun as everything came crashing down, and then he was gone, faded into his subconscious.

…

"When can I see him?" It sounded more like a demand than a question.

"In due time, Riven. His wounds are still healing, and I instructed them to take extreme precaution for his treatment. We can't have him dying on us. At least not yet."

"I must see him."

"Why? So you can kill him? If this is about revenge-"

"I assure you, General, its not about revenge. I just want to speak with him."

Swain chuckled. "Good luck with that."

"What does that mean?" Riven asked.

"He hasn't spoken a word since he arrived in the E.R. three days ago. I've tried everything… Women, diplomats, war heroes. I even went myself. He does not talk, merely stares."

"Stares?"

"Quite. And, if I may add, with the angriest eyes I think I've ever seen."

"That's… unsettling."

"Indeed." The old General spoke. "But… If you really are honest in your words of not harming him, I can possibly have you see him later today."

Riven's face lit up. "Great! Where can I find him?"

"He will be moved into the N.C.C.C. **AN: (Noxus Criminal Correctional Center) **in just a few hours."

"What?!" She asked, taken back.

"Did you not hear?"

"No I heard just fine, but… General, that's the place we send some of the biggest and most dangerous criminals in Noxus, nay, Valoran. Is he really worthy of such a high security prison? Surely you know the other convicts will not take a liking to him. They may even try to harm him. Or worse."

"Do not worry, my dear. He need not be afraid of the other convicts." Swain's eyes gleamed. "But they… They should be most afraid of him."

...

Things had taken an interesting turn for Talon. He expected to be executed or recruited after being captured, but instead he was handcuffed to an operating bed and held captive in a hospital for the last few days. Tended to by nurses and doctors, bustling into his room with blank faces and empty stares. There were needles in his arms, drugs in his system, bandages over his wounds. He had yet to look at them, but assumed they must've been pretty bad. People had come to talk to him; he assumed it was some play by one of the Generals trying to get on his good side. Beautiful women attempting seduction, war heroes feigning friendship, politicians offering money. _Do they really think I'm that weak? _

Talon hadn't said a word to any of them. He didn't care if it may cause his situation to worsen by refusing to cooperate. He hated Noxus. The city reeked in malevolence and its denizens carried the stench of betrayal upwards. He always wondered when he would be stabbed in the back, ratted out, blindsided. The people of this country had no morals; Any piece of trash meandering the streets would gladly sell a man out for the money in his pocket. Not to say he was any better than them, because he wasn't. But at least he was honest about it.

That was all Noxus would offer if he joined their ranks.

Betrayal.

Death.

Failure.

That was all the city's inhabitants could do.

_I work better alone._

That was how his day started, anyway. Around midday, a group of four heavily armed soldiers escorted him from the complex to a vehicle waiting outside. He thought of making a break for it, but decided against it since he had shackles on his ankles and wrists. The vehicle drove for about ten minutes until it stopped by a complex he knew all too well. The N.C.C.C. It was akin to a myth back in the streets, and when he was younger he would always hear stories of it being a place for the most dangerous men Noxus could fester. They say that it is where your soul is sent to die. Too bad for them, a soul was something Talon didn't particularly have.

The guards brought him in, had him change into an orange prison uniform, and guided him to his cell. He was sealed in tight behind several inch thick bars of iron. Didn't seem like escaping was an option. A hand on his shoulder alerted him of the other men on the room.

"Oi kid! Howya doin?" Came a husky voice. He looked up, eyeing his fellow inmates. There were three of them total, aside from himself. They stood tall and large, big and burly. Their bodies were covered in tattoos and scars and their eyes stared at him hungrily.

_Ahhh. I see. I'm the new guy. The fresh meat._

A grin crossed Talon's face. A cocky, shit eating grin that could make the most calm of men irate. His new cell buddy didn't take to kindly to it. A heavy fist came down quicker than Talon expected and it struck him across the cheek, effectively bringing him to his knees.

"I'll rip that smile off yer face!" His voice boomed again and his two buddies gathered around Talon.

Talon chewed his cheek, testing the damage done, then spoke. "You guys are monsters…"

"Haha!" They laughed in unison. "Yer damn right about that!"

Talon's smile returned in full force. "But you have it all wrong."

The leader cracked an eyebrow. "Eh?! What's that supposed to mean, boy?!"

"You seem to think I'm trapped in here with you." Talon's words slid off his tongue, dripping with an eerie lack of emotion. "But that's not the case… **You're trapped in here with me."**

…

Riven's soft footfalls were the only sound that disturbed the hanging silence as she walked down the long white hallway in the N.C.C.C. Swain had stayed true to his word and granted her an audience with Talon, just the two of them. She had been thinking about it for awhile, and felt the only way to get closure on the deaths of her friends was to confront their murderer.

_I should be getting close…_

She rounded the corner and was met with a lone cell, fitted with hefty iron bars and 3 cots. The first thing she noticed was the solitary man sitting on a small chair in the middle of the cell, slightly hunched over, head hung low. She approached slowly, trying as best she could to make no noise. But as she got within a couple feet, the man spoke without lifting his head.

"You here to kill me?"

Riven did not respond, rather observed what she could. His face was not visible, but his dark brown locks were, and guessed they reached down to his shoulders. He had taken off the shirt portion of his prison uniform and tied it around his wrist. This allowed her to see some of his upper body. It had not been what she was expecting.

She thought he would have been scarless and unblemished, mainly due to his prowess in their fight. How could a man that beat her lose to simple street thugs? It never once occurred to her that perhaps the reason he was so _strong _might be because he had lost so _much._

His chest and shoulders showed that he had lost, quite a lot. Long, jagged, angry scars adorned his arms, abdominals, chest, etc. Some had faded quite a bit, some looked recent. She couldn't help but notice the way they sprawled over his muscles, which were not anything to laugh at in the slightest. Another expectation of hers was that he must have been very athletic, after all, he did fight her for around thirty minutes. This assumption was correct, more so than she even thought initially. His arms were cut and defined, hardened after years of brutal work. His chest stood high, and his abs were nothing short of a 6 pack. If he wasn't a psychopathic serial killer, she _may _even consider him attractive.

_That's not what I'm here for. _

Her eyes flowed back to his left hand wrapped in his shirt. She saw a small amount of blood leaking from it.

"Hurt yourself?" She asked.

He chuckled a hollow laugh, void of any real emotion. "Nah, I'm not injured. Might wanna check on the other guys, though." He nodded his head slightly backwards, and she looked behind him.

_What the fuck?!_

Three corpses lay behind Talon, sprawled roughly across the ground. She must have overlooked it earlier because she had been so focused on him. The men were large and burly, looking like they knew their way around a fight.

"You did this?"

"They started it."

"You don't have to kill everyone who tries to fight you. Sometimes dealing mercy is more powerful than dealing death."

"Who are you to judge me?" Talon stood, his full height putting him a couple inches higher than Riven. He walked up to the bars, mere inches away from the commander, whom was very flustered now. "There are only two types of people in this world." His eyes stared intensely through hers with that eerie coldness about them, but she sensed a hint of a fire brewing in them. She saw just the faintest sign of anger emanating out of his chocolate brown irises. It was almost a relief, in a way, because he had finally shown some sort of emotion. His words broke her from her trance.

"There are those who live to die, and those who die to live." He said coldly. "Would you care to tell me which one you are, Riven?"

**A/N: Sorry I'm a day late. We have Mardi Gras break (For those who don't know, its basically just a ton of parties and parades and drunkenness for a week) starting this coming weekend, and because of such, school has been piling on tests. Hope this chapter wasn't too bad, I'm not too sure how I feel about it. As you can probably tell, I'm diverging from Talon's actual lore and revising it. Sorry for all you Kat X Talon shippers, but they probably won't really have a huge part in this story. FYI, I'll be changing the title of this story in a day or two when I think of a good one, because I hate the current one.**

**Anyway, reviwerino pls. I live for your feedback.**

**-RDR**


	4. Chapter 4

**Rise from the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion: Shots- Imagine Dragons**

_**Chapter 4: Lingering Opportunities**_

"I choose neither. I do not live to die nor die to live. I live to live." Riven stated, staring at the man before her. A sick, twisted smile crossed his face and he sat back in his chair.

"That's not an answer." He said smugly.

"I don't care. Isn't life about finding your own answers, anyway?" She asked.

Talon formed a basket with his hands and put them behind his head. "Perhaps. If that is your interpretation, then go with it."

"Oh? And what is your interpretation? What is the meaning of life to you?"

"Why do you care?" He narrowed his eyes, irritated by her constant pestering.

"I'd like to know more about the man who killed my friends and defeated me so handily. Its not like it happens often." She said with a hint of bite behind her words.

"I sense its something more than that… But for the sake of conversation I suppose I'll entertain you. There ain't shit else to do in here." Talon eyed the ceiling, staring blankly into its white surface. "The meaning of life, huh? In my opinion, there isn't one."

"What?" Riven asked, surprised.

"There isn't a meaning to life. There's no god waiting to take me to paradise. Even if there was, I doubt he'd want me." He let loose a hollow chuckle. "There's no sense of fulfillment throughout living, only longing for more. There's no prize at the end of the road. So what's the point?"

"That's preposterous. To truly live is to help those that cannot help themselves. To fight for what one believes is correct. That is life." She said.

"For you, maybe. But do you honestly think those you've helped appreciate you? Sure they may sing your praises, but it means naught. To them, you're just a freak. Like me. They need you right now, but when they don't… They'll cast you out. Their morals, their code… its a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. There only as good as the world allows them to be. You'll see. When the chips are down, these civilized people… They'll eat each other." Talon flashed a wicked smile. "See, I'm not a monster. I'm just ahead of the curb."

Talon threw his head back and let out a laugh. "Its not so bad really. Just gotta come to terms with who you are-." He looked back and noticed his visitor no longer remained there. Instead, she was walking away quite fastly.

"Was it something I said?" He said to no one in particular.

* * *

"Riven."

"Yes, General?"

"Would you like to take a walk?"

"A walk?" She asked, eyes narrowing by Swain's odd request.

"Indeed. There is something I'd like to discuss. I feel some fresh air might lighten the ambience. These dark walls seem to make me feel as if I'm suffocating sometimes." His voice came lacking emotion, as normal.

"I suppose a walk would be nice." Riven said.

* * *

Noxus isn't a place one would generally think of taking a peaceful stroll at. The lower district was a terrible idea, due to the fact of its high crime rates and overall disgusting appearance. The middle district would be decent if it weren't for the constant buzz of saws and gusts of black smoke. It was home to many blacksmiths and swordcrafters, since they were industries that boomed in times of war. The upper district would be the best out of the three, but even then the spoiled children that littered the streets and fat politicians that infested its domiciles would kill a mood. The outskirts of Noxus, though, they were something else. It always seemed odd to Riven that a country so invested in war would have such beautiful plant and animal life just outside its doors. Nevertheless, flowers shot up like wildfire just outside the towering black walls. Animals went to and fro, seemingly unaffected by the loud noise and polluted air the city provided. Yes, walks outside the walls were quite peaceful, and this is where the General and his commander found themselves that sunny afternoon. It was all very pleasant, with the sun shining down upon them, the breeze slightly blowing parting her hair. It definitely cleared her mind of the disturbing conversation she had with Talon earlier. Riven decided she should go on more walks.

She strolled silently by Swain, whom hadn't said a word yet either. He too appeared enthralled by the vast wildlife surrounding them. Deer ran amok, birds flew high and low, cicadas chimed in harmony. Suddenly, Swain put a hand on her shoulder and pointed in the sky. She followed his finger, squinting her eyes until she saw a large hawk flying high above a group of smaller birds, perhaps quail.

"Riven, do you know what differentiates a predator from its prey?" He asked.

"I do not, sir." She responded.

"Its nothing physical. Its not like the predator necessarily has more stamina, or stronger muscles, or faster reflexes. Its all about the mindset." Swain announced while they both stood still watching the hawk circle above the unknowing flock.

"A predator separates itself from other predators like themselves because it does not want to share. It hunts alone."

The hawk began descending, ever so slowly.

"It will wait for a prime opportunity to strike. It does not take into account if its prey is prepared or not. Its acts on its own agenda. And then, just when the time is right…"

The hawk suddenly dove, flying at a high speed until its talons found their mark in a particularly unlucky quail. The quail let out a shriek as it was drove to the ground by the hawk. Upon impact, the hawk wasted no time in finishing it off by driving its beak into the lesser bird's throat.

"A predator shows no mercy nor pleasure in its kills. It simply kills because it must in order to survive. Its not like it wants to end its fellow animals, but if it wants to properly live it has no other option. It lives a lonely life, sheltering no love nor friendship. And that is what makes a predator so dangerous. Its not the fact that it can kill, its the fact that it has to kill."

"Why are you telling me all this, General?" She asked.

"Riven, you've been my best commander for a long time now. I've watched you grow, and through many adverse trials and tribulations, you've become a hero to your country. Are you ready to take it to the next level?"

"Sir? I'm confused by what you mean?"

"We are starting a program. The high eight Generals have gathered and decided that while our military may be strong as an iron fist, we need something… more. We need another division. A group of individuals whose skills far exceed their peers. A group of the elite."

"What is this division called, sir?" Riven asked.

"We've been throwing names around for quite a while, but I believe they've decided on calling it the Crimson Elite."

"So you… Want me?"

"Yes. Riven, I want you to join the Crimson Elite. Do not worry, you will still be under my orders, but your assignments will be different. Instead of leading armies I want you to lead small groups of our best soldiers on insertion missions, reconnaissance, assassination, and the like. Of course, you will have to abandon your old comrades, but they will think highly of you. This group's number of enlisted soldiers is still in the single digits. Your current soldiers will think of you as a legend."

"Can I think it over? Its a lot take all at once." She said aloud.

"Of course, of course. I need to be getting back to work anyway." Swain began walking back towards the city's gates. " I'll be taking my leave, then. Goodbye, Riven, and please do think it over well."

"Goodbye, General."

* * *

The days in prison seemed to blend together. Talon was placed in solitary confinement shortly after the warden was notified of the three dead men in his cell. He was surprised there had been no other repercussions or punishments, but then again prisoners killing each other were most likely common in this place. He tried to find something to do to fill the boring hours of the day, but there wasn't much. His room consisted of a toilet, chair, and bed. There aren't many things a person can do with just those three items. How long had he been in here? A week? A month? He did not know.

He was saved from his boredom when an old man wearing green garments limped up to his cell. He had seen him somewhere… Ah, yes. He had been one of the Generals that tried to speak with him in the hospital. Talon would entertain whatever he had to say purely due to the fact that it would be better than his normal routine which consisted of laying on his bed and staring at the ceiling.

But the man said nothing. He simply stood there and stared at Talon with cold, brown eyes, as if he were a science experiment being studied. It was unsettling.

Talon broke the silence. "Why are you here?" He asked.

"Why don't we start with introductions, yes? I've never gotten to fully introduce myself yet." The man said, his old raspy voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Talon.

"My name is Jericho Swain, but most people around here just call me 'General'. I am the second highest ranking General in Noxus, and my rule is only under General Darkwill."

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Talon shot.

A smile spread across Swain's lips. "No, no. If I were a normal citizen, I would be much more afraid of you than me."

Silence filled the air for a few seconds much to Swain's disappointment.

"You do know how introductions work, right? One person says their name, then the other person says theirs. Go ahead, don't be shy." Swain said.

"My name is Talon." He droned.

"Not that name. That's your street name. What's your real name?"

"I don't know." He really didn't. He had been an orphan as long as he could remember. He never knew what name he had been given, or even if he had been given one in the first place. The name 'Talon' came along one day when one of his partners in crime coined it. It seemed to stick, so he went with it.

"That's a shame. Everyone should have a name. Would you like me to give you one?" Swain asked.

"No. Talon is fine."

"Indeed it is. And quite fitting, might I add. You strike quickly and precisely, much like a hawk or eagle." Swain put a hand to his chin. "You know, I'm the one who sent those soldiers after you in the slums."

Talon smiled. "And look where that got them."

"Indeed. I was actually excited when Riven returned alone to tell the tale of the infamous Shadow's Blade. Oh, you should've seen it, Talon!" Swain got excited, raising his voice. "I have been her General for many years, but never had I seen her so hysterical before. She showed an emotion I had yet to see out of her when she retold the events. Do you know what that emotion was?"

"Anger? Hate? Revenge?"

"No." Swain smiled. "It was fear. Riven is a strong woman. I've seen her take on entire battalions by herself without showing an ounce of fear. So why was it that she was so afraid of a single man? I had to know, I had to find out what was so damn special about you. So I studied you, harder than I had already been. Do you know what I discovered?"

"Nope. I don't really care." Talon said boringly.

"There it is! That's it!" Swain's eyes lit up and he acted akin to a child in a candy store. "That's why you're so strong! You have no respect for authority, you have no fear of those in higher power. It doesn't make a difference to you whether you slit a noble's throat or a beggars. You only respect those who can beat you with a blade. You were raised in hell, and yet somehow, with every odd stacked against you, you came out of it stronger than ever. It is not your blade that should be feared, it is your mind. You do not care if you kill someone; It has no effect on you. I assume its akin to someone killing an insect. There is no remorse nor pleasure in your actions, let alone hesitation. You are the perfect soldier, yet through some cruel twist of fate, being a soldier is the last thing you want to do."

"I'm not really sure what you've been talking about, but that last bit made the most sense out of everything. I'd rather die than be one of your grunts." Talon said with bite in his words.

"Ahhh, but that's why I'm here today. Talon, you are strong, stronger than most soldiers I've seen. It would be a waste to use you as cannon fodder, but what if I offered you something else?"

Talon raised his eyebrow. "Something else?"

"What if instead of joining the main military force, I offered you a special squadron that catered more to someone of your skillset?"

He had Talon's attention. "Go on."

"A group of Noxus' finest; Its best. You would not be fighting by the side of weak warriors, rather you would be fighting with the strongest killers we can offer."

"Not sure I'm convinced."

Swain continued with his pitch, as if he was trying to sell Talon something. "There's more! You would only go on missions once every two weeks, the rest of the time will be spent relaxing or training with the other members. You will be payed very, very well. Better than most in Noxus."

Talon drove a hard bargain. "That's all?"

"We will provide housing, something you've never had!" Swain said enthusiastically. "Not just any house, a mansion fit for a king! There are only seven or eight members as of now, that's how exclusive it is."

"Hmmm, still not sure."

Swain was forced to use his trump card. "Oh, yes, before I forget. Riven, the commander who you've had to confront twice, will be in it."

Talon was silent.

Swain extended his hand through the bars.

"Talon, do you want to join the Crimson Elite and fulfill your destiny?"

Talon stood, Swain opened the cell.

"Lead me." He said.

And so they left.

* * *

Talon didn't want to join them. It was the last thing he wanted.

His whole life he had grown up despising them. They were opposite of him in every way.

They worked in unison. He worked alone.

They fought to expand their empire. He fought to survive.

When he was a boy, he would constantly see soldiers at bars. He would normally score well by pickpocketing the drunkards leaving such establishments. On the outside, he would watch these soldiers. They interested him.

They would get free drinks. Free food. Meanwhile he was slowly starving to death and had to pull off a heist in order to get a meal. And it created resentment for the military. For those who abused their power.

So it was hard to become one of them.

But it was either that or rotting away in a cell for the rest of his life. Or worse.

He had no choice.

In all honesty, the money and housing didn't interest him in the least. The fact that Noxus' strongest were in it, as well as the girl who had sold him out before at the ball and got him into this mess. Well, that interested him.

He prided himself on his fighting. It was one of the few things he valued. When he was younger he had been beaten in duels. Quite a lot. But as time went on, he found himself losing less and less. Perhaps it had been through such colossal failure that he found success. And suddenly, it had been years since he lost a duel. Guild members had approached him daily, all trying to kill him when he declined. All died, just more bodies for the gutter. But those guild members were nothing more than insects to him. In his duel against the girl with white hair, he had come close to losing more than a few times. If he had been a half second slower, or swung a half second later, he would be dead.

It was exhilarating, in a sense, to know there are others as good or better than you are at something. Because that means you still can improve, still can work your craft.

He was a survivor, and sometimes that meant having to do things you're not entirely happy about to ensure you continue living.

So he went with the offer. The benefits outweighed the detriments, and in his line of work, that was always a sign for go.

* * *

Riven stood in the well lit room, idly cracking her knuckles. Around her were seven other individuals. Four men and three women to be precise. This was the Crimson Elite's first meeting, and they had all been here on time. It was also the first time many of them had seen each other. Riven recognized most of them, since they were all relatively famous in Noxus, but there had been a few that she drew a blank on. Some were making small talk, some, like Riven, were keeping to themselves. Finally, the doors opened and the eight high Generals entered. She recognized Swain and gave him a smile, to which he returned one. It wasn't a hard decision for her in terms of joining. She mulled it over, but eventually came to the conclusion that it was good for herself and her city, so why not?

"Alright, let's get this meeting started." General Darkwill, the highest ranking of the eight spoke.

"Aren't we missing someone?" One of the women by Riven said. She had not recognized her when she saw her. She had long blonde hair and a pretty face, aside from one ugly scar that ran parallel to her chin under her mouth. "I was told there were nine of us total, but as of now their are only eight."

"Ah, yes. Swain, he's your soldier, why don't you introduce him?" Darkwill said.

"With pleasure." Swain's eyes gleamed. "Come in, come in." He motioned at the door, and a figure walked in. This figure wore dark clothing, completed with a cowl to cover his face. Riven couldn't tell who he was, but something about him seemed eerily reminding.

"This is our final member." Swain said. The man removed his cowl.

Riven's heart plummeted.

"His name… is Talon."

**A/N: Sry I'm behind on this update. Been a crazy week (in a good way). Nevertheless, its 3 AM and I'm tired as fuck so you fuckers better appreciate it lol. Should be back on track with updates sometime next week. Review plz. Next chapter is gonna be intense, and if you guys lead me some feedback I might just make it extra special (Katarina introduction. Kat vs Riven or Talon vs Kat or Talon vs Riven. You choose). I had this chapter done a while ago but was fucked up for me and wouldn't let me upload. I eventually had to edit a previous chapter, delete all of it, and copy n paste all of this one into. Anyway, cya round.**

**-RdR**


	5. Chapter 5

**Rise from the Darkness **

**Music Suggestion: Seven Nation Army- The White Stripes**

**Chapter 5: Don't Ever Trust the Devil, Bitch**

* * *

_i._

_Once upon a time,_

_I swore I had a heart._

_Long before the world I knew,_

_Tore it all apart._

_i._

* * *

Talon stood, cowled, running his deep brown eyes over what he assumed was his new 'team'. Many had been exactly what he expected: High ranking military personnel. It wasn't a surprise, considering Noxus was a country with extensive military opportunity. Anyone who was anybody had been in or currently was in the military. Most of the individuals before him had short, neat hair, as per standard martial protocol. They chose to wear their division uniforms, mostly consisting of thick armor. These were clear tells that they were soldiers. Only one woman did not wear a uniform, rather she sported leather tights and a black jacket, with various daggers strapped to her clothing. Her crimson red hair contrasted with her deep emerald eyes, and she looked forward with a frown.

His teammates, too, eyed him. Some looked inquisitively, some disapprovingly. He supposed he was an odd sight to see, after all, considering he was obviously not in the military, but his weapons were too well made for him to be a regular citizen. One woman with familiar white hair stared at him blankly, but he knew that somewhere behind those maroon eyes was a spark of fear.

General Darkwill stepped between Talon and the other Elites. "Seeing as this is your first time meeting most of each other, we believe it would be a good idea for us to leave and for you to have alone time. You will be unmonitored, so do as you like, but remember, you will all be fighting alongside each other quite frequently from now on. This is your first test." He and the other Generals took their leave, closing the thick iron door behind the fresh batch of Elitists.

There was a painful silence for the lingering seconds after the generals had left. Talon stood alone on one side of the room, while they other soldiers stood across from him. His eyes never wavered from their cold stare, for he knew first impressions meant a lot in Noxus.

Finally, one of the male's broke the silence. "Just who are you, kid?" The man had short brown hair, blue eyes, and a slightly scared face. He stood tall, with a broad chest and defined arms. Though Talon wasn't sure if the man approved of him or not, he sensed no hostility in his voice.

"Name's Talon." He relaxed against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yours?"

"They call me Cade." He walked over to Talon, and for a moment he tensed up, but relaxed when the man gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let's work well together!" He virtually oozed with enthusiasm, but Talon decided that he wasn't an enemy. For now.

"Well you obviously ain't in the service like the rest of us." Now a shorter man approached him. This one had no hair, his head shaved bald. He scrunched his face towards Talon. "So what does that make you?" His words dripped with contempt and he poked his finger into Talon's chest.

While the first man, Cade, held no animosity towards him, this one clearly did. Talon perceived him as a threat, and threats should be dealt with accordingly. The second man now stood far too close, and Talon saw his hand resting on his sheathed sword. Deciding to take the initiative, Talon brought his left leg up with great force and kicked the short man directly in the face. By the end of it, he was standing tall, whilst the other man had crumpled to the ground and held his nose, which erupted with blood.

"You fuckin' bastard!" The short man yelled. "I'll fuckin' skin ya alive for that!"

"Good luck with that." Talon's cold voice rang. Now it was his turn to stare with contempt at the man on his knees, holding his destroyed nose. Cade got between them.

"Let's all just settle down. I get it, Bonzo, I do." Cade looked at the man on his knees, apparently known as Bonzo. "He seems inexperienced, and none of us know anything about him, but-"

"I know everything about him." All heads turned towards the white haired commander whom had been silent up until this point.

"Riven?" Cade rang. "How do you know about this guy?" He gestured towards Talon.

Riven stared directly into Talon's irises. He returned the glare. "His name is Talon, but you already know that." Riven said. "He's lived in the slums his whole life, and was quite well known for hundreds- if not thousands of murders." This got all the Crimson Elites undivided attention. "They called him 'The Blade's Shadow'. Eventually, after many years of his rampages going unchecked, Swain took an interest in him and sent my four best soldiers and me to capture him." Riven laughed aloud, but it was a hollow, emotionless laugh. "I thought it was just another snatch and grab mission… How wrong I was… He killed all of my men, nearly killed me, and escaped. Then the dumbass got himself caught at a ball…" Riven strode slowly up to Talon. She finally stopped when they were mere feet apart, her maroon eyes having a battle with his brown ones. "I don't know what High Command sees in him, but nothing good will come of working with him. This guy's a fuckin' heartless monster."

Talon scoffed. "Not my fault your friends couldn't fight for shit."

A plethora of voices came all at once as every person had their own opinion on the matter.

"Fuck this guy! We should kill em!"

"I like the kid!"

"Give the kid a chance!"

"Hang the bastard!"

Everyone was arguing except one woman. She was leaning against the wall opposite to Talon and he had a clear line of sight to her. He brought his eyes up and met hers; dark brown collided with deep emerald. Her gaze seemed to be of intrigue, almost like she was studying him. The redhead promptly backed off the wall and made her way to him. Her dark crimson locks swayed gracefully, and Talon couldn't stop himself from staring a little.

The room got quiet as the two started conversing.

"So, your name's Talon, eh?"

"Who's asking?"

She lifted her chin cockily. "I am Katarina Du Couteau, and you would do well to remember that name."

"Am I supposed to say that I've heard of your name? Because I haven't." Talon drawled lazily.

Katarina got irritated. "Its not surprising, considering you've lived in the slums your whole life, haven't you, street rat?" Her words had some bite behind them.

Talon was quick to fire back. "I may be a street rat, but at least I'm not just talk." His words were ice cold.

Katarina instinctively brought a hand to the dagger in her belt. "Is that a challenge?"

"If you want it to be." Talon took a step off the wall and closed the distance between them.

Katarina smiled and unsheathed a few of her blades. "Very well, street rat. I'll grace you with my blade." She began twirling her daggers in her hands and walked to the opposite side of the room. "The clock to the left," She motioned her head to the direction of the clock. Talon looked it's way. "Its at 31 seconds right now. When it reaches the next minute, we will fight. Agreed?"

"Sure."

The rest of the Crimson Elite backed as far away as possible into the corner of the large room.

It became deathly quiet, so much so that the only source of noise emitted from the hand on the clock monotonously ticking. Talon held his eyes closed.

_20 seconds left._

"Sure you don't wanna back out?" Katarina said, laughing at him.

_10 seconds left._

"No second thoughts?" The redhead continued her prodding.

_5 seconds left._

"It'll be your funeral!" She spewed.

And then, the clock broke to the next minute.

Simultaneously, all hell broke loose.

Talon's eyes shot open and were immediately drawn to several silver objects flying towards him. His mind realized they were knives just in time, and he barely brought his arm blade up to deflect them. They clanged off his steel and fell harmlessly to the ground, but Katarina gave him no time to relax. She charged him, letting loose a maniacal laugh. Normally when Talon fought, he was faster than his opponent, and because of such, he was always on the offensive. In this fight, however, he was constantly on the defensive. She was quick, cunning, and smart. Her daggers searched for any flesh they could find, but had yet to find their mark. Talon himself had poured every ounce of his concentration into dodging and blocking; he had yet to even make a swing at her. Finally, an opening presented itself and he brought his free hand up to Katarina's exposed stomach. The blow forced her back and that was all Talon needed. Now he was able to gain ground and it was Katarina's turn to be on the defensive. His arm blade came down viciously, each strike either narrowly dodged or blocked. But the fight had begun tipping in his favor. In any fight between two assassins, the one on the attack generally won. So long as things stayed this way, he would inevitably emerge victorious.

Katarina performed a backflip to put distance between her and Talon, but he reacted quickly, flinging out several shurikens with strings attached to them. She nimbly ducked underneath them, then stood to her full height once they had safely fallen to the ground behind her.

"That all you got?" She said cockily, standing her ground as he did his.

Talon smiled wickedly. "Hey dumbass." He held his hand up, and she inspected it closer. He had strings in his hands… And they traveled to somewhere behind her... But what could be behind her?

_Oh shit._

She realized that Talon's shurikens were attached to strings, so that once launched forward, they could be pulled back. She dodged to the right, diving head first as she saw him raking the strings back, but she had been a fraction of a second too late. Three shurikens made contact with her side, slashing at the skin. Luckily the cut wasn't too deep, but that didn't stop it from hurting like a bitch.

Katarina hissed and began getting up, but Talon left her no time to rest. He sprung as soon as his shurikens had safely returned to him and slammed his arm blade down at her crouched form. She brought both the daggers in her hands up to block, but his force still shoved her on her back. Thinking quickly, she flipped back to her feet and ran straight at him.

He, too, ran at her.

Katarina flung a dagger in mid stride but it yielded nothing as Talon nimbly raised his arm blade to block it from hitting his face. But that's what she had wanted, because by bringing his arm blade up to cover his face, it left his midsection open.

Seizing her small opening, Katarina thrust her daggers forward. A small shiver electrified her spine when she felt them slide easily into Talon's flesh. One of the blades had entered just under his ribcage and the other around the right side of his lower stomach. She heard his breath hitch suddenly, and for a moment they stood still, her daggers still inside him.

"Pity." She said, her voice just above a whisper so only Talon could hear. "You seemed to have some potential."

Each second felt agonizingly long for Katarina. Normally, she would extract her daggers and let a man bleed out alone when she killed them. But this time, it felt wrong to leave. It felt wrong to do anything but stay right here, with him, while his last moments were had. He started crumpling on top of her, breaths getting ragged and slower, until finally, he seemed to be taking what appeared to be his last breath.

Then, the unbelievable happened.

He laughed.

Not any small laugh, either. No, he laughed a full, hearty, almost maniacal laugh.

Her world was flipped upside down as her body was thrown like a ragdoll across the room. She slammed painfully into the wall, causing it to crack from the force. White hot pain shot through her, but she refused to back down. With her instincts kicking in, she clenched her fists and managed to get to a knee. Holding her damaged side, she got to her feet shakily and gazed forward at a different man that the one she had fought before.

Talon stood, cowl removed, daggers still implanted in his lower section.

He should be dead, or at the very least bleeding out on the ground.

And yet, he stood.

The first thing she noticed was his face. Where as before she could only catch small glimpses of any definitive features, now she had the full view. It showed signs of boyhood with the small scruffle forming on his chin, but for the most part, it was hardened. His chin was chiseled like that of a god, his dark locks hung loosely behind his back, his eyes looked her over, lacking any emotion whatsoever. No pain nor fear. No anger nor vengeance. Just a hollow void.

Talon began slowly, menacingly walking his way towards the injured Katarina.

"You…" Kat spoke shakily. "You should be dead! What do you think you're doing?!"

Talon stayed silent, edging closer with every second. Katarina, unbeknownst to her, began backing up to the wall.

She pointed an accusing finger at him. "How do you walk?!" She was distressed, almost hysterical. "How are you not in an unfathomable amount of pain right now?!"

Talon let loose a cackle. A smile adorned his face, but it was sinister in nature. "Oh, I assure you. I am in an immense amount of pain right now. Just look at what you did." He gestured to his midsection and the pair of daggers still protruding from his body.

The Crimson Elite members had long since dropped their jaws in awe. Or maybe it was fear.

Talon got within a few feet. "But you seem to misinterpret what pain really is. You all do!" Talon tilted his head towards the rest of his new team. "Allow me to enlighten you with a lesson I learned during my childhood."

Talon's hand snatched Katarina throat and he began cutting her oxygen off. She reached for a dagger, but realized she had exhausted her seemingly endless supply of them with her final two being used to strike Talon earlier. She resorted to clawing at his outstretched arm viciously.

Talon's voice dripped with venom. "Pain is your ally; It is your friend." Katarina began struggling from her lack of oxygen as her world started turning black. Talon loosened his grip so that she got in a breath, but it was immediately pushed out of her lungs when he directed a massive punch into her stomach. He struck her several times in the face, drawing blood from her nose and mouth. He elbowed her in the chest, and she finally fell to her knees. Everything hurt, and she seriously debated whether or not she should just roll over and _let _him kill her. Biting the bullet, she looked upwards and saw Talon with a sadistic grin plastered across his face.

"Pain lets you know you've been injured, sometimes even seriously injured." He formed a fist with his right hand and brought it high above his head. And for a moment, he held it there.

A dark look crossed his face as his eyes dropped slightly.

"But the best part about pain is…" His smile returned in full force. "It let's you know **you're not dead yet!**"

His fist came crashing down, but instead of being the finishing blow, it simply hovered mere centimeters from her head. Her eyes had been closed, but she now opened them precariously. Talon took a step back, now back to his normal, cold demeanor. He gripped the two daggers that were still embedded in him.

"I believe these belong to you."

Just like that, he pulled them out. Not even a glimmer of discomfort crossed his face as he slid out the several inch long blades. He presented the blood covered weapons before Katarina and she begrudgingly took them back. He turned on his heel and took his former place against the wall.

She was going to say something to her, anything, but before she knew it, the world had begun spinning around her and she had collapsed. A few of the Crimson Elite ran to her aid, a few still stared in shock at Talon.

The large iron door creaked open and the eight generals walked back into the room. Immediately, one of them ran to the unconscious Katarina. The rest seemed unfazed of the sight before them: The Du Couteau predecessor laying limp on the ground covered in blood, with a trail leading back to Talon.

A man with long scarlet hair kneeled by the side of Katarina, he did not seem angry with the sight of his daughter in this state, more so he only seemed worried if anything else. He followed the blood trail back to its origin: A hooded man leaning against the wall adjacent to him.

The general slowly made his way to the man in question and spoke. "You did this?"

"Yeah." Talon responded coolly, offering no excuses for his actions.

"Name's Marcus Du Couteau." The man held out his hand, to which Talon cautiously shook. "And I'm impressed with you, boy. What's your name?"

"Do you not care for your daughter's safety?" Talon asked, perplexed.

A small grin crossed the General's face. "Trust me, she's had worse. Plus, its not a bad thing that she gets beaten every now and then. Teaches her not to be so damn cocky."

Swain walked over to Talon and put a hand on his shoulder. "This fine specimen is named Talon." He interjected.

"Ah, so that's the man you've been talking so much about? I certainly understand why you were so enthusiastic about him." Du Couteau responded. "As for you…" He looked at the blood leaking from Talon's midsection. "I think we should get a few medics in here, for my daughter and for Talon."

General Darkwill motioned to a guard at the doorway.

"Consider it done, sir." The guard responded, jogging away.

Darkwill cleared his throat. "I believe this was a good thing. I know some of you may have had your doubts about Swain's soldier here." He motioned to Talon. "Perhaps you have now realized that everyone here has been chosen, not because we simply believe they are extremely skilled, but because they are. It would bode well for all of you to learn to respect each other. You will be working together from here on out, after all."

Another General piped up. "General Darkwill, if all introductions are done, I believe we should announce our first mission to the Elites."

Darkwill nodded. "Yes, our first order of business will commence immediately. It will be a two person operation on the outskirts of Piltover. By Swain's request, I have decided that both of the candidates for this mission shall be Riven and Talon. As soon as the medics have tended to him, I expect you both to get prepared and head out. You will be briefed on the way."

**A/N: Hehe, how was it?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion: Something In The Way- Nirvana**

**Chapter 6: **_**Hello, Darkness, my old friend.**_

* * *

_i._

_So take these broken wings, _

_They'll just slow me down._

_And take my fragile heart,_

_They'll just tear it out._

_i._

* * *

The white haired commander sat alone in her room, exasperated. It was obvious from just looking at her. Her eyes were narrowed in frustration, her fists clenched in unseen rage. What was causing all this anger, you may ask? It was mostly due to the fact that she had been assigned to a mission on the first day on the job. She knew the Crimson Elite were meant to get things done, but she didn't realize they were supposed to act _this _fast. More specifically, she was particularly irate over the fact that _he _would be accompanying her. Surely Swain had concocted this. The nerve of that man! If he thought even for a second he could make her bond with that _thing _he called "The Blade's Shadow", he was sadly mistaken. It wouldn't be all too bad if she had other teammates accompanying on them on their mission; she loved getting to know new people, and it would definitely ease the underlying tension between them. Unfortunately, General Darkwill had stressed that it was a two man operation, consisting of only him and her.

A particularly annoying lock of hair fell over her eye. She blew it away.

Riven chose to recollect the events of her day so far. In the morning, she had been ecstatic, thrilled to finally meet her new squad and get to know them better. At first, it seemed to be going quite well. She recognized a few faces, such as Katarina Du Couteau, or Lieutenant Banner from Division 7. They all made feeble small talk, and in a way Riven found it cute. It was somewhat hilarious to watch a room full of trained killers struggling to break the awkwardness of first impressions. Suddenly, the door opened and the Generals entered, each wearing exquisite robes. She smiled to Swain, and he gave a slight nod of the head back. Just as the meeting seemed imminent, a woman in the back, one that she had not recognized, announced that they were missing someone. Tallying the soldiers in the room, Riven silently confirmed to herself they were indeed one person short. The Generals did not seem flustered, and Swain gestured to the still open iron door. "Come in, come in." The General had called, an odd smile adorning his face. A hooded man dressed in black slowly meandered his way into the room.

Then, things fell apart, as they always seemed to in Riven's life.

She couldn't see his face, couldn't see his blades, but she _knew _who it was. They way he walked, the way he carried himself with a slight edge of confidence, the dark ambiance that seemed to follow him like a dog begging at the heel.

He seemed to follow her, no matter where she ran.

Her head hurt, dull throbs of pain assaulting her brain. Swain was saying something else, but she could not hear it; her ears were ringing with high pitched noise. Suddenly she felt dizzy, even a bit nauseous. All she had been trying to do since that fateful day she approached him in the slums was forget about him. And yet, here he was, moseying into her new squad. Could she not catch a break?

Was this fate? Was it god punishing her? Was it all just random coincidence?

She snapped from her trance when she noticed his deep brown irises settling on hers. She tried to stand her ground and stare back, but it was most difficult. His eyes cut right through her, and she _knew _he could tell she was afraid.

A foolhardy man approached The Blade's Shadow. His name was Bonzo if Riven remembered correctly. She had heard a few stories of his feats in battle and suspected him to be skilled. His skill, however, was hindered heavily by his idiocy. She vaguely heard him talking, and her intuition told her he was talking shit. That was his mistake.

He must have struck a cord, because in a flash, The Blade's Shadow had brought his foot all the way up to Bonzo's nose. It resounded against the soft flesh and pushed it back into his skull slightly. The poor man's nose was beyond destroyed, and he was reduced to yelling profanities in a puddle of his own blood. Her eyes traced their way slowly back to _him,_ and to be honest, she didn't find herself all too surprised from his reaction. The Blade's Shadow loomed over the injured man, eyes void of anything but a small amount of contempt.

Everything changed when he fought Katarina, though.

She had never actually met the redhead in person before today, but she had heard tales long and wide of her skill. It only seemed obvious that she was an expert in the art of fighting, especially considering that she was General Du Couteau's daughter, after all.

Riven was slightly taken aback by her odd request to spar with him. She was even more surprised by his acceptance of the duel. It seemed very uncharacteristic of him to just fight for the sake of fighting.

Guess that didn't stop him, though.

The fight itself was very surreal. Katarina was even better than she had initially expected, her movements were so damn _fluid. _Like water flowing through a creek. Talon was put on the defensive early, and to his credit, he did a fair job of blocking her attacks. Not many found their marks, and the ones that did were only flesh wounds.

Then he found an opening.

Now it was his turn to be on the offensive. He seemed to make quick work of her until she landed a near fatal attack on him. But, as always, he continued to surprise her. Instead of crying out in pain, or crumpling to the ground in agony, like so many would've done in his situation, he merely stood there.

If the fight had seemed evenly matched before, it sure wasn't now. He was faster. More brutal.

As he choked the life out of the Du Couteau, he gave a small speech about pain that seemingly came from nowhere.

"**The best part about pain… It let's you know you're not dead yet!"**

A small shiver rippled up Riven's spine when she remembered that hollow look in his eyes, those daggers planted so firmly in his midsection, his words dripping with venom.

One of the most interesting things from the whole fight was the vast difference in fighting styles between the two assassins.

Katarina's attacks were calculated, precise, refined.

Talon's were sporadic, vicious, _unrelenting. _

At face value, it was a duel between two assassins. But it went so much deeper than that.

The duel was between the upper class and slums of Noxus.

Katarina had grown up with privilege, chivalry, love.

Talon had grown up with adversity, suffering, _death. _

It was a fight between the significant and the uncared. The praised and the forgotten.

By the end of it, Riven had learnt one very important thing.

No matter how much training you receive, no matter how much skill you accrue for your art, no matter how much pamper and praise you garner, it does not make you strong.

Real strength is not something that can just be obtained after hard work. Real strength is something bestowed upon you. Forged by hardships and blood.

And if she knew anything, as loathe as she was to admit it, she knew that Talon was strong.

* * *

The trek to Piltover was boring as could be. Riven rode next to Talon on horseback, and although she had tried numerous times to stir conversation, he always seemed to shut her down. They had left only hours after the incident between Talon and Katarina, she still remembered her briefing quite vividly.

* * *

_Darkwill walked beside Talon and her. "Tomorrow at 0800, a high ranking Demacian noble will be leaving Piltover via horse and buggy. We suspect he will have an escort, but its nothing you two shouldn't be able to handle." Darkwill handed her a map with lines drawn to accentuate where they would spring the trap. "This map has all the other information you need to know. You are to go to headquarters immediately. They will give you all the gear you need, as well as transportation. Dismissed." Riven saluted, as was custom when a higher rank dismissed you. Talon, however, grunted and continued walking. Oddly enough, Darkwill showed no offense to the blatant sign of disrespect._

* * *

Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, he spoke to her. "It'll be dark soon. We'll make camp after the next clearing."

Riven nodded. "You should talk more. It gets pretty boring riding a horse for seven hours with no conversation."

"What is there to say?" He asked, but got no response.

Several minutes later the two wordlessly unmounted from their horses and set up camp. There was no need for a fire, since they wanted to leave as little evidence as possible. After a small meal, Talon volunteered to take first watch while she got some rest. She hesitantly accepted.

Riven knew it would be wise to try to fall asleep, but it did not come easily. Her thoughts were plagued with questions about Talon.

_What if he tried to slit my throat when I'm asleep?_

_What if he sold her out to Demacia?_

_What if he left?_

If he wanted to, now would be his best opportunity. They were far from Noxus, and with just her by his side, he could easily sneak off in the dead of the night. She knew he had not wanted to join the Crimson Elite; It seemed fairly obvious. He had gotten offers from some of the highest ranking guilds in the city. If he wanted to live comfortably, he could have simply joined one of them. Not to mention how long it took Swain to finally _persuade _him to join their cause. He had been so damn adamant on being alone.

It just didn't make any sense.

What kind of human being wants to live like that? Killing and stealing everyday, just to scrape by. It was completely irrational. He had so many chances to have everything he could wish for, so why wouldn't he just swallow his pride and join earlier?

_Does he hate us? Did we do something wrong to him?_

Riven quickly answered that question with little thought. Of _course _he hated them. Of course he hated Noxus. He did not choose to live the life he had, rather it was chosen for him. Those in power did nothing to remedy the hopelessness of the slums. They merely sat by and sipped on wine as innocent people suffered and died. And what of her? Had she done anything to help those poor people?

Of course not.

She hated going to the slums and tried to evade it as much as possible. While she was receiving proper training and living comfortably during her younger years, he was fighting a neverending battle just to survive.

_We did this to him. _

_We created him._

_And he has every goddamned right to hate us for it._

* * *

Riven's eyes slowly opened as the morning rays seeped through her tent. She stretched for a second and let loose a yawn.

"Already morning?" She murmured to her sleepy self.

Her eyes suddenly bolted open. Talon was supposed to wake her up around midnight last night to switch shifts.

But he hadn't.

_Has he left?!_

Quickly grabbing her sword, she stormed out of the tent only to find Talon right where she had left him last night: Sitting on a stump a few meters from her tent. He stopped fiddling with his knife and eyed her questioningly.

She looked for the right words to explain herself. "I- You were supposed to wake me up and exchange shifts."

He shrugged. "You looked like you needed the sleep."

"You sure you're gonna be alright with no sleep?" She laid her sword on the ground and sat down next to him.

"I'll be fine. I'm used to it." He said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She was perplexed.

For a brief, brief moment, a small look of shock passed over Talon's eyes. He quickly reverted back to his normal self. "Nothing."

"You sure?" She really wanted to know.

He turned his head and gave her a toothy grin. "It's best to not pry Riven. You may not like what you find."

She shut up after that. A comfortable (but slightly awkward) silence spread and for a minute Talon closed his eyes and relaxed his tense shoulders. Riven chose to spend the time observing his face. For a rare moment, he had no cowl on, and she got a really good look at his face.

But that moment was over far too quick. He suddenly readjusted his hood over his head and stood. "We should go. Our target will be in position soon."

She begrudgingly agreed, secretly wishing she could observe his face a little more.

They packed everything up in record time and departed to the position. Within 10 minutes, they were ready to spring the trap.

* * *

After waiting for half an hour, Riven was getting impatient. They were positioned behind a treeline that was obscured from view from the narrow path that ran by it. The plan was to wait for the carriage to get as close as possible and then ambush him. Only problem was he was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago.

"You think we've been discovered?" She asked.

"Doubtful. He's probably just running late." Talon sounded.

Riven fidgeted for her feet before asking him an actual meaningful second. "Say, you don't wanna be here do you?"

He looked at her with a confused expression.

She restated herself. "I mean, in the Crimson Elite. You don't really wanna work for them, huh?"

"Nope." Talon murmured.

"Then why didn't you leave last night? You and I both know it would've been easy."

Talon remained silent, and for a terrifying moment she thought he would not respond, but he did. "There'd be no point."

"Can you elaborate?" She asked.

He let loose a sigh. "Even if I ran as far as my feet would carry me, Swain would not give up chase. Plus, there's no other place for a person like me to go. No other city state would have me considering my background, and I couldn't just turn over a new leaf and be normal." He sat back against the tree. "You can take me out of Noxus, but you can't take Noxus out of me."

"That's… I'm sorry." Riven said, a hint of sadness in her voice.

Talon wore a confused face again. "For what?"

"This- all this, is because of me. I'm the one who confronted you in the slums, I'm the one who sold you out at the ball. You didn't seem happy the way you were living before but… At least it was the way you chose for yourself. I'm the one who got you sentenced to this punishment."

Talon said nothing, but his knuckles turned white from the exerting grip he had on his blades.

Finally, he spoke. "What's done is done. Get your head back on your shoulders, Riven, our target is here." He gestured to the far end of the dirt path and she saw the carriage approaching at a slow pace.

As it grew nearer, she grew more nervous. Not because she felt they would lose, but because for the first time, she would be working side by side with Talon.

The buggy was only feet away now. Her grip on her sword tightened.

But would she be working with Talon, or would she be working with The Blade's Shadow?

**A/N: one day behind mb. thx for the reviews on the last chapter, cuz I definitely think there were some things I needed to improve on. sry for bad grammar, was in a rush to get this out. anywai, lemme know what you think about this one. pce.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion: Finale- Madeon**

**Chapter 7: _The Devil in I_**

**A/N: Cover art is by LengYou on deviantart, check him out.**

***Warning* This chapter gets a little dark. **

_i._

_Wake me up from this dream that never ends,_

_Haunting me, haunting me till my bitter end._

_i._

For a moment, he was there, right beside her. Then in the next, he was gone.

She brought her sword up and scrambled around the large redwood that had previously been serving as cover. She hadn't a chance yet to discern exactly how many enemies there were or which side of the carriage their target was in, but if he could do it, so could she.

So she charged forward, merely a couple steps behind The Blade's Shadow.

Shouting from a few men on foot, commotion to her left. Her sixth sense perceived it, and just in the knick of time. She came to a screeching stop and cleaved her sword in an arc above her head, not even taking the time to analyze if there was a target in front of her or not.

The sword met some resistance. The all too familiar sound of blade slashing flesh cracked through the air.

In an instant, a man fell to the ground before her; his right shoulder and torso not on his body any longer.

She didn't care.

She pressed forward, turning her attention back to The Blade's Shadow.

In the time she had taken out one, he had taken out four. He showed no signs of stopping there.

In mid stride, she watched him. She could see every movement, every action, as if it were in slow motion.

It was mesmerizing.

Three men sprung for him at once from all directions.

His right hand, which held no weapon, formed a fist that brutally knocked itself into one man's stomach. In an instant, his arm blade found its mark through another man's throat.

The third man seemed to be within striking distance, but The Shadow leapt backwards, and whilst in midair unsheathed two shurikens. They soon after found their way into the third man's skull.

She was broken from her trance when a gleam of silver caught her eye. She instinctively ducked, and narrowly dodged a sword that was originally aimed at her neck. She brought her own up and drove it through the poor person's chest, creating a gaping chasm of blood and guts.

Another soldier came, then another, then another.

Each one she cleaved down.

And then no more came.

The woman turned her head to check on her partner. He seemed to have already dispatched of the other men and immobilized the transport.

She trotted up to him.

"He's inside?" She asked.

"Guess we'll find out." Was all he offered in response.

Talon ripped open the door to the carriage. It was such a violent motion that the unfortunate door came clean off its hinges and landed roughly against the muddy ground. The Blade's Shadow leapt into the buggy with an interesting gleam in his eyes, akin to a wolf closing in on its prey. Riven stood watch outside the door for a few moments until a man came barreling out of it; thrown by Talon with much force. The man hit the ground quite hard, and with a resounding thud he fell limp.

Riven waited a few moments, staring unsurprised at the body, then at all the bodies around them. The horses had long since left, leaving only the two assassins and the dead. She didn't feel guilty for killing them, no, but she did feel a twinge of sadness. They had wives and mothers and sons that would never see them again. But she always reminded herself that this is war. And when one joins a war, they fully know they could be signing a death wish.

"Looks like we're done here." She said, breaking from her thoughts and entering reality once more. "Let's get out of here before someone realizes the noble hasn't checked in."

Riven turned heel to leave, but after a few steps, she noticed The Blade's Shadow had not followed. Doing a 180, she saw him still looming over the noble. His eyes revealed nothing, no joy nor anger in his kill. It seemed like he only… analyzed.

"What are you-" She stopped when he held up a hand.

Talon cleared his throat. "Feigning death will get you nowhere with me." His voice was deep and low, almost a whisper. But Riven could still hear him, and was perplexed as much as she was confused.

Talon silently unsheathed one of his many shurikens. If she hadn't been watching him, she would not have known he did it. Then, in an instant, he flung it downwards towards the face down corpse of the noble. It penetrated his right calf deeply, and for a moment there was silence, until the man rolled over and let out a bellow of pain.

Riven was confused.

_He was dead, right?_

_Had he been faking? _

_If so, how could Talon have known?_

The noble had tears dripping down his face; begging for mercy. Talon merely crouched next to him and looked him in the eyes for a moment.

"Pl- Pleas- Please. D-D-D-Don't k-kill me!" He blubbered pathetically; urinating on himself to add insult to injury.

Riven had no idea who this man really was aside from being a Demacian noble, but from what she had observed, he was disgusting to say the least. His obese form showed many rolls of fat gathering under his neck and around his waist. His hair was long and greasy and black, and unkempt. His clothing consisted of one long robe that was decorated in many golden and eloquent patterns. It was repulsive to her.

He pulled a handsome sack of gold coins and tossed it at Talon's feet. "Keep it! Just let me go!"

Talon didn't break his gaze. "Oh, I'll let you live."

The man's eyes lit up momentarily.

"Under one condition." Talon said.

"Name it! Anything you want!"

"I get to take one of your organs of my choosing." The Blade's Shadow said without a hint of feeling.

The pompous noble narrowed his eyes. "What? That's preposterous! You'll just take my heart or my lungs and I'll die anyway!" His voice quivered in a mix of fear and rage.

Talon remained stone-faced. "You misunderstand, Demacian. I will only take an organ that you can live without. With all the medicine in Demacia, you'll probably be fixed right up when you get back."

The noble weighed his options, but decided anything was better than death. "Fine! Fine! You have a deal. Just make it fast!"

Talon reached into his waistband and pulled out a long, serrated knife. It had to be at least five or six inches in length at least. A small, almost inconceivable grin spread across his face.

Talon's voice came once more, but this time it was sinister and conniving. "Hey, noble, what's your name?"

The noble looked up frightfully at the blade in his hands. "Ed-Edward."

"Well Edward, you wanna know a fun fact?"

"Su-sure."

"Did you know that your skin is considered an organ?"

Edward's eyes widened a bit, and Talon only chuckled in response.

Riven finally spoke up. "Talon, I hope you're joking. Just kill him quickly so we can get out of he-"

"Shut up." He interrupted her abruptly with venom spewing through his words. "You wanna leave? That's fine with me. Go." He gestured with his hand to the direction they had left their horses. "As for me, I'm gonna take my time with this guy. He is, after all, a person I very much despise."

Talon gripped the man's chest and began dragging him towards a tree. "Come on you. We've got some work to do."

His blubbering cries were his only means of response.

* * *

She should have left. Every part of her mind screamed at her to flee, to leave this sick, twisted man behind.

But, she stayed. However, she didn't choose to stay in front of the two and watch the whole man-skinning spectacle. That would be too much. She instead chose to sit down against the back of a tree about 50 yards away and keep watch.

It was becoming quite hard due to Edward's blood curdling screams.

She leaned back against the tree and exhaled a long held breath. Just when he seemed like he was going to open up to her, just when he seemed to let her in, he fell back into his old habits.

_I expected as much. That man is seriously fucked up in the head._

For some odd reason, she couldn't bring herself to be angry with him. She had every right to, though. After all, he had killed her friends, tarnished her reputation, and now was skinning a freaking man alive!

But somewhere in her conscious, she felt a pang of regret and guilt. She was the reason he was here. _She _was the reason he was like this.

Her thoughts were interrupted by another pain induced scream from the noble.

* * *

The ride back to Noxus was quiet for the most part, just like the ride to Piltover. Talon didn't show any joy or anger when he returned, only a blank stare. When she asked whether the noble was dead or not, he merely said, "He's not getting back up."

Towards the end of their journey, she finally gathered the courage to ask something that had been bothering her for the whole ride.

"Why didn't you just kill him quickly?"

Talon didn't turn his head to look at her, but still gave a response. "We were only told to kill him. They didn't include specifics on how to kill him. I got… Creative."

"He never wronged you specifically, why make his death so painful? Is it not painful enough to just die in the first place?"

Talon scoffed. "Sure, he never wronged me personally. But a man like that? Can you honestly believe a man with that much power and authority never wronged others? His streets are extended gutters, and the gutters are full of blood. That's how all power figures are. Their accumulated blood and murder will well up around their waist, and they'll look up and shout, 'save us!'. And I'll whisper... No."

**A/N: sry for kinda short chapter. had a paper to turn in for english that took me awhile. anyway, hope you liked a slightly darker take on Talon this chapter. reviewerino plzerino. you know I love every single one of them.**

**And for Skij: Don't worry, Talon's not getting sappy any time soon. Hopefully this chapter was evidence of that.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Chapter 8: Impediment **

**Music Suggestion: Instant Crush- Daft Punk**

* * *

_i. _

_Out of the night that covers me,_

_Black as the pit from pole to pole,_

_I thank whatever gods may be_

_For my unconquerable soul._

_In the fell clutch of circumstance_

_I have not winced nor cried aloud._

_Under the bludgeonings of chance_

_My head is bloody, but unbowed._

_Beyond this place of wrath and tears_

_Looms but the Horror of the shade,_

_And yet the menace of the years_

_Finds and shall find me unafraid._

_It matters not how strait the gate,_

_How charged with punishments the scroll,_

_I am the master of my fate,_

_I am the captain of my soul._

_Invictus- William Ernest Henley_

_i._

* * *

Talon eased himself into the leather brown chair, allowing his body to be immersed by its ever sinking cushioning. The room he was in was brightly lit, with a light yellow hue for a wallpaper, and many works of art adorning its walls. It was a stark contrast to the rest of Noxus, with its almost tangible embodiment of malevolence and dark, sometimes overbearingly so, architecture. It felt odd, to say the least. It was even more confusing that this was the office of General Darkwill. It would seem fitting for a man that led the most evil country in the world to have a more… sinister place of work. Then again, to Talon, good and evil were relative to the person. What one may perceive as just another may perceive as wicked. It could sometimes create a nuance between right and wrong, which may be inopportune to most, but did not affect Talon. In truth, he really didn't care. So long as what he was doing was furthering his gains, morals were thrown out the window.

It was an uncomfortable atmosphere to say the least, shrouded by a small ambiance of awkwardness. In an identical chair to his left sat Riven, whom hadn't seemed particularly interested in speaking to him after he killed that pig of a man they called a 'noble'. In front of him sat Darkwill, poised behind a black desk, sifting through papers lazily. To the right of Darkwill stood Swain, staring down at Talon and Riven with eyes of approval, though his face hid it well. After what felt like several minutes to Talon, which in hindsight had probably been only 30 seconds, Darkwill spoke.

"You're wondering why I called you in." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. His voice sounded like a groaning machine in its final days. The head general was getting old. "I just wanted to congratulate you two on the successful mission. I look to forward to the future. Dismissed."

Riven stood and saluted, as she always did. Talon left without a word, without even a hint of acknowledgement, as he always did. To this day it perplexed Riven how General Darkwill, a stickler on tradition and rules, allowed him to show such blatant disrespect. Darkwill went back to his paperwork, she followed Talon out of the room and into the dimly lit maze of corridors that was the exit to High Command's center of operations.

The duo stopped walking when they heard someone exaggeratedly clear their throat behind them. Talon turned first and was met with Swain, Riven followed shortly after. Swain, now free from Darkwill's judging eyes, let loose a grin that he seemed to have been holding in for hours.

"I couldn't exactly say what I wanted in front of Darkwill back there." Swain gestured back down the hallway in the direction of the room they just left. "Regardless, I'm very pleased with your success. Its a proud feeling to have both of my candidates representing me so well. Keep up the good work, you two. I'll see to it that Darkwill puts both of you on more duo missions."

Riven wanted to vomit at that last statement.

* * *

**_*Three months later*_**

Talon laid back in his bed, resting his head on his comfortable silk pillow. He let loose a long, dragged out breath. Almost like a sigh. He felt instant regret as the strong aroma of whiskey carried upwards from his throat, slowly evaporating into the air of his room. This week was his off week, and he had planned to spend every night enjoying himself. Of course, acclimation was necessary. It had taken him a long time to truly appreciate his house, to truly enjoy his nights out drinking at various bars with his comrades. The Talon born and raised on the streets would have found no joy in such frivolous activities and deemed them as a waste of time, but the new Talon quite fancied them. Granted, he was still the same cold, calculating person, just with a slightly different point of view regarding relaxation. To further prove this point, he had not befriended any of his comrades even after several months of working together. Most of them shied away from him or considered him an acquaintance at best. Perhaps it was his overall dark demeanor, or perhaps it was that he had fought against Katarina and Riven and won, or perhaps it was the fact that not a single mission he had been on had yet to fail. His accolades stacked almost as high as the bodies he left in his wake.

Regardless, the last few months had been overall pleasant. It was as exciting as it was unsettling to him. So much of his life had been an uphill struggle to survive, it felt odd to have things like food and drink merely handed to him, as if they held no value at all. But eventually, he adapted, and continued to do so everyday. He had knocked down a plethora of hard missions and earned respect from his peers, he had gained money and power, he had _survived_.

So why did he feel so empty? Like something was just missing from his life. Sure, things were different now, but they had changed for the better. Right? There's no mistaking that he felt a pang of guilt, though. In the streets, life was a matter of kill or be killed. People had no love to spare to others, no sympathy to give, no friendship to offer. That was just life. Yet, oddly enough, they all shared a mutual hatred of people in power over Noxus. Murderers and beggars, hags and lads, they could all come together over their one mutual hatred over those who put them their. The word didn't even do the feeling they had justice. It wasn't just a strong distaste or dislike, no, it was absolute loathing. They poured every ember of their ever-extinguishing souls into the divine despising of Noxus' military. He felt like he betrayed them; betrayed himself. Strafed so far away from his old ways he did not know if he could return. When his doubts came, and came they did, he pushed them into the back of his head. But they had welled up and became plump, like a dam holding a flood at bay, and could burst any given moment. He had once stood for the streets; an icon for others to look at and gather inspiration. But now? Now? Now he was just one of them, one of the military dogs he had once despised so. He had become the very thing he had fought so _damn _hard to beat. And it was headache inducing to even think about.

His partner, Riven, was another issue entirely.

She seemed incredibly bipolar towards him. Sometimes, she would treat him with suspicious kindness; almost like he was just a kid. Other times, she would give nothing more than a cold shoulder to talk to. He was not exactly well versed in social cues, but he could tell something was bothering her. And that something had something to do with him. But, for fear of prying, he did not investigate any further. It didn't stop them from being incredibly efficient together, though. They had the most completed missions out of any given individual or team in the Crimson Elite and they had developed a sort of teamwork. Their fighting styles seemed to compliment one anothers, with her brute force and his deadly accuracy. Swain had been growing exponentially pleased with them and Darkwill had even given a few tips of the hat. Things seemed to be going very well for them, aside from her mood swings.

Talon knew all too well, though, that just when things seem to be going right, they fall apart.

With that last thought, he fell into a deep whiskey induced sleep.

* * *

The harsh rasps at the door woke him. Throught bleary and bloodshot eyes, he rolled out of bed, gathering whatever strength he had to make it downstairs and to the door. Angrily, he turned the knob, swinging open the large wooden door violently. The sun poured through the doorway and blinded him, causing him to cover his face with his hands like he had been a burned. He let loose a hiss and sunk back into his sunless domain, leaving the door open to let whatever visitor he had to come in after him. Immediately, he began brewing a fresh pot of coffee while listening closely to his guest's footsteps and breathing. It was almost second nature to him to analyze and determine whether someone was a threat or not. Once this mysterious person cleared their throat, he let loose a sigh and turned around.

"You know, if you wanna wake me up in the morning, just break down the door and rouse me in my bed." Talon place a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. "It'd be much easier than me having to come open the door for you."

"Maybe you shouldn't be so lazy." Riven fired back, the ghost of a smirk on her lips.

He opened his eyes and she quickly took note to their poor condition. "Long night?"

"Longer morning." He grumbled. His brew had finished and he began pouring it into a cup. "What's the job this time?" He questioned.

She sat herself on his couch. "Just training, as usual on mondays at 7:30. I figured you might try to sleep in, so I came to fetch you myself. You're welcome."

"I don't recall ever thanking you."

"Whatever. Training starts in 15 minutes. Don't be late."

* * *

Ah, training.

It was one of the few things Talon heavily disliked about being in the Crimson Elite. The missions were always challenging, at least to a certain degree, and for that reason he liked going on them. The money, the booz, and all the other perks that came with the job were great, too.

But, man, fuck training.

It was awful.

No, really. Almost as bad as living in the streets.

Okay, maybe not _that _bad. But you get the point.

It was only twice a week, but went as follows: Wake up early as shit, far too early for anyone to be awake, do three hours of grueling, torturous workouts, and then finally they would spar.

The workouts were pretty bad, but manageable. The sparring was were it got really unbearable. See, high command wouldn't just order them to fight, for their would be no reason to and therefore they would not go all out. They remedied this, however, by allowing whoever came in first place to shower first and leave first. The second place winner would shower second and leave second. And so on and so forth.

You may not know, but after sweating and straining your muscles for around five hours, having to wait for a shower is awful.

The higher placers made sure to take their sweet fucking time, too.

If you were made to wait, you couldn't just sit around; Oh no, that would be too easy for the Crimson Elite.

You would have to do planks and other various strains on your body until it was your turn to go. It really just made things more painful than they already were.

Needless to say, nobody held back in their spars.

Talon swore some of them fought harder then than when they were in real combat.

Oh, and one more thing.

If the fights were all one on one duels, Talon would win every time without a problem. He was by far the strongest member in the elite, though none of them really acknowledged it. Perhaps out of jealousy they refused to accept it. But it was true, nonetheless. He was faster, sharper, had a higher tolerance for pain, and used his technique masterfully. They rest of the members were relatively skilled in one aspect of fighting; Be it Katarina's quickness, Riven's strength, Cade's endurance, Bonzo's toughness, Arien's stamina, and so on. But Talon was a jack of all trades, and where others would fail, only he would succeed. It was the story of his life.

So, naturally, High Command had to make things harder for him.

Talon almost never fought his fellow members one on one anymore. They had made the mistake of that already, and the outcome was not pretty for the other members.

Normally it was two on one, sometimes even three.

Needless to say, he really dreaded it.

And he had finally arrived at the Noxian High Command. Just on time.

* * *

The workouts hadn't been bad that day; mostly just running and lifting weights. Course, after three hours of such, Talon was a little tired. But that didn't faze him. It was time for sparring, and as usual, Swain led them into the arena.

The arena itself was pretty standard in terms of set up. It had a white roof and walls, and a grey floor that consisted of some rubber material In the center was a small ring; akin to something you would see in a boxing match..

Swain cleared his throat. "Today's first match is Riven versus Arien. You know the rules: Don't stop fighting until I call the match and use any dirty tricks you want. This is war, after all.

Talon indifferently watched as a determined Riven and sweaty Arien entered the ring. He was shirtless, as all the men were, and Riven wore a plain white tank top along with baggy sweat pants. They brought their fists up and began to juggle their feet as Talon dissected their fighting patterns.

One more thing; They couldn't use weapons in the ring. High Command figured that it would be pointless since they were had to be very skilled with weapons to make it this far. Plus, if they allowed themselves to fight with blades, it was only a matter of time until someone died. They were killers, after all.

Swain gave the order, and Arien immediately charged forward, looking to use his slender body and speed to his advantage. Riven ran at him as well and dodged a mid strike hook from his left fist. She immediately brought her right elbow into his ribcage and her left hand to his cheekbone. The two blows simultaneously landed and took Arien for a whirl. Riven pressed her advantage and backed him into a corner; pummeling him all the while mercilessly. To Arien's credit, he lasted quite long given the situation. But there was no coming back when cornered by Riven. Her brute strength and ferocity were unmatched, even by Talon. Arien took a clean shot to the dame and was knocked clean out, as he had been many times before, and Swain called the match. She nodded and stepped out of the ring while a few of Swain's lackeys were ordered to carry Arien out.

Talon was watching Swain closely, inspecting his face. He seemed… off. Like something was conflicting. His lips curled into an almost inconceivable smirk, and he spoke.

"The first contestant in the next match: Talon." Talon hoisted himself into the ring without expression.

Swain eyes gleamed. "Talon's opponents today will be Katarina, Bonzo, Cade, and Ahren."

* * *

_What the fuck?! _

_Did I just hear that right?!_

This was the first time he had ever been pitted against four. Talon had yet to win against three, so it was perplexing as to why Swain would up the ante.

It wasn't just any four, either. It consisted of two he had already embarrassed, and were probably looking for the first opportunity for revenge. Cade was a nice guy, but could fight with the best of them when he needed to, and Ahrens was quiet but deadly. Riven excluded, this was debatably the strongest Elitists after him.

His mind was racing, heart pumping, veins running ice cold. Millions of thoughts ran through his brain all at once.

_How the fuck am I supposed to beat four of them? Maybe if I had my arm blade…_

_Is Swain trying to get me killed?_

_What happens if I win? Will I face five next time?_

He may have been distraught mentally, but he externalized none of it. As his four opponents entered the side of the ring opposite of him, they were faced with a stone cold face and analytical eyes. Truthfully, though, he was a bit afraid. But that wasn't a bad thing, necessarily. Fear taught you what your weaknesses were, what you had to overcome to get stronger. No, fear was not bad itself. Showing fear, however, sentenced you to lose before you began the fight. So he kept his face taut and unmoving and steadied his breathing. His eyes grazed over his opponents. Bonzo had a toothy grin, Katarina seemed to be ecstatic at the chance of revenge, Cade had a look on his face that read 'Sorry, I know this is unfair.', and Ahren was as emotionless as him.

Swain gave the order and the match began. Talon put himself into a boxer's stance and prepared to dodge the first strike. He figured Katarina was the fastest, so he focused his attention on her, since she should have gotten to him first.

But she didn't.

CRACK! Talon felt his head jerked to the left and a sting in his right cheek. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ahren standing right next to him, preparing to deliver a second blow.

_Fuck, I misjudged who was the fastest._

Quickly, Talon turned his left eye towards the rest of his opposition. Katarina was only three steps away, Cade five steps, and Bonzo seven. Talon brought his left fist up with great speed and made contact with Ahren's stomach just before her blow directed at his head reached its mark. He felt the oxygen leave her lungs and her body slowly started to crumple, but just as he was going to bring a fist to her face, a sharp pain erupted in his side and he turned on a dime to stop a flurry of punches that had been barraging him. Katarina had already landed a few good jabs in, but Talon countered by sweeping his foot into her ankles, causing her to fall flat on her back. He had no time to recover from her pelting, as Cade descended on him with a heavy punch to his chest.

It hurt like hell.

But Talon persisted and gathered up the strength to land a quick one-two punch combo into Cade's face, ending with an elbow to the throat.

He staggered for a second as Cade fell backwards. Then he noticed the last man running full speed at him, intending to throw his entire weight into him.

Talon's eyes widened. "Fucking Bonzo-" He had no time to react or shield himself as Bonzo slammed his body into Talons; causing them both to topple over. Talon tried to push Bonzo off of him, but his left hand was pinned by a boot that belonged to a certain redhead. His left wrist had taken the brunt of the fall, and he deemed it was broken, so that wasn't an option either. Talon lifted his head and noticed all four of his opponents were up on their feet; looming over him like wolves arriving a feast.

Once he was on the ground, it was over. It hadn't taken every ounce of his concentration to even return fire on his feet, but now? It was comedically hopeless. The posse kicked and punched him everywhere they could. Katarina and Bonzo especially didn't hold back. They fired punch after painstaking punch into Talon's face, stomach, sides, etc. Ahren and Cade seemed a bit more reluctant to hurt a fellow teammate to such an extent, but that didn't stop them from getting in on it. They were fighting for that shower, after all.

Talon considered himself very proficient at dealing with pain. Hell, after you endure something for 18 years, it tends to stop bothering you so much. But he had to admit. This. Hurt. He was hungover from the night before, tired from the workouts, and now he was getting the living shit beaten out of him because some general decided a _four on fucking one _was a good idea.

A waterfall of blood erupted from his mouth as Bonzo slammed both his hands into his vulnerable stomach.

Riven had had enough.

"Swain!" She yelled, getting angered at watching someone getting the shit beaten out of them so unfairly. "Call the fucking match already! Its over!"

Katarina reared back and delivered a heavy right hook to the bridge of Talon's nose, destroying the bones in it. Talon, meanwhile, only groaned in response.

"Swain what the fuck are you doing?!" Riven roared, getting to her feet.

Ahren and Cade assaulted the sides of Talon chest, bruising the skin and probably damaging his internal organs.

"Fuck this!" Riven was furious, seething with rage. She wasn't particularly fond of Talon, but she couldn't just sit around and do nothing while someone was getting bullied like this. She wasn't raised like that.

She charged forward, entering the ring. "Talon!" She yelled. "Hang in there!"

Talon vaguely felt someone calling his name from the outskirt of the ring. He opened his eyes slightly, and saw a livid Riven charging forward. But she was cut off by Katarina and Cade; trying to hold her back and saying something about how she couldn't interfere with the fight. Riven was yelling and straining against their grasp, until Talon saw Katarina right hand slam across her face. Riven whiplashed and flipped backwards, then lay limp on the ground. Either she was unconscious, or more likely, Talon deduced the punched might have broken her neck.

He wished he could do something about it. He really did. But his body could only go so far, and it had had enough. His eyes closed and he felt himself slip into unconsciousness.

Little did he know, his fight was long from over.

* * *

**A/N: sup. I think I'm gonna change the update date to every thursday instead of wednesday, cuz it gives me a lot more time to make these things longer for you guys : 0 )**

**hope you enjoyed, and I just wanted to thank you guys for the kind reviews on my last chapter. means a lot. rly.**

**-RddddddddddR**


	9. Chapter 9

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion: Requiem- Avenged Sevenfold**

**Chapter 9: **_**Baptism by Fire**_

* * *

_i._

_Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls,_

_And ask the ghosts if honor matters._

_Their silence is your answer._

_-Javik, Mass Effect 3_

_i._

* * *

"_Talon! Talon!"_

_His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dimly lit room. His head hurt and his vision was foggy.. At first, he could only make out black apparitions in the shape of humans, but slowly their distinctive features came into view._

_There were three of them. Big, intimidating, burly men. Tattoos lined their arms and scars weaved across their faces. They stared at him with hungry eyes that were beyond bloodshot. Their mouths were moving, but he heard no noise. His ears rang loudly, so much so that he felt as if his brain was going to implode. The men started advancing slowly, menacingly; their smiles only widening with every step and eyes nearly popping out of their heads with twisted anticipation. He felt a presence to his left and turned his head only to find his partner, Kavyn, tied to the wall by his hands and ankles. Talon realized he was in a similar situation, with his ankles and wrists tied painfully tightly to the decaying brick wall behind him. He couldn't recollect how they had gotten here, but it definitely seemed he and his partner in crime had gotten themselves into some serious trouble._

"_Talon!"_

_He heard it. He heard Kavyn's plea for help. The ringing in his ears had minimized to a tolerable rate now. He tilted his head slightly to the left and whispered: "I'll get us out of here, just let me think". And think he did. His mind raced with possibilities, sifting through different outcomes to escape. Each one ended in failure. This was a situation he could not think his way out of. _

_The men were only a few steps away now. Talon swallowed his anxiety and spoke up, "Whaddya want with us?" _

_The men laughed in response, now only a mere foot away from the young boy. The largest and most imposing one cleared his throat, and promptly responded. "Shaddup boy!" A searing streak of pain crossed Talon's cheek as the large man struck him across the face with his muscular, calloused hand. "You and yur' friend fucked wit' the wrong guys!" Another punch, this one to the stomach from one of the leader's lackeys. The man to the left had begun pummeling Kavyn, throwing hooks to his chin mercilessly. _

_The men were relentless and unwavering, delivering blow after painstaking blow to Talon's damaged body. _

_He felt his ribs crack, his stomach caved in on itself._

_He felt his nose break, crushing the cartilage and bone alike._

_He felt his lung collapse, making breathing a hell of a lot harder._

_His eyes drooped as waterfalls of blood seeped from his mouth. The pain had long left him, leaving only a hollow numbness and emptiness of spirit in its wake._

His breaths became ragged and forced; he turned his head slowly to check on Kavyn.

_He was in poor condition, though not as bad as him. He was bloody and bruised, but could consider himself lucky since they had spared breaking any bones on him. Yet._

"_Talon!"_

_There it was again. His name had gotten through to him; through all the pain and embarrassment and hopelessness, his name seemed to reach his ears, no matter how deaf they wished to be. _

"_Talon!" _

_He turned his head to get a better listen._

"_Kill him! Don't kill me! It was his idea! Kill Talon! Kill Talon!"_

_...Kavyn. Kavyn had offered him as a sacrifice to appease the thugs. Kavyn had thrown him to the wolves to save his own __pathetic_ _life. After everything he had done for his friend, from protecting him to feeding him to saving his life and everything in between, he had sold him out in an __**instant**__._

_If Talon had to mark a particular moment when he decided he would walk alone, this would be it. Many atrocities had occurred in his life in the slums, but this one cut the deepest. Kavyn had been his partner, his companion, his __**friend. **_

_He would've done anything to protect him. But he… He sold him out at the first sign of trouble._

_Some friend, huh?_

_The rest of the night was a blur to Talon, but he vaguely remembered breaking his restraints, he vaguely remembered slaughtering the three thugs with a rusty knife he had in his pocket, and he vaguely remembered slitting Kavyn's throat and watching the light fade from his eyes. _

_Often times he wondered where he got the strength to do such things considering he had practically been beaten to death prior. But he decided not to dwell on it too long. _

_After all, why ask a question you don't want answered?_

* * *

"Talon!"

…

"Talon!"

…

"**Talon!**"

He finally stirred, eyes opening to reveal a red world.

His brain hadn't connected all of the dots yet, but he remembered what had happened just before he fell unconscious. They had beaten him mercilessly. More importantly, they had hurt Riven. Even now, her body lay limp on the ground a few feet away.

That simply wouldn't do.

The four man squad that was assigned to beating the daylight out of him seemed interested in Riven and had left him alone.

_Perfect._

He propelled himself off the ground and landed on his feet. The other Crimson Elite in the ring noticed him, but… They seemed unable to believe it. He had been pummeled to a pulp, with bones broken and muscles torn, yet he stood before them. His usual purple cloak was tattered and ripped in several places, making it nothing more than a piece of cloth.

But the cloak had one important component still in tact.

Talon donned his hood, which was previously being unworn. The shadow it cast on his face was welcoming to him, and in a way, nostalgic. It had been a long time since he let the beast out.

He had tried to fight these people as if they were colleagues of his, as if they were associates, as if they were _friends._

_That was his mistake._

Friends got you hurt. Letting people in leads to your inevitable demise.

It was time to stop fighting as Talon.

It was time to start fighting as The Blade's Shadow.

* * *

The four remaining members of the Crimson Elite broke from their disbelief quickly.

"Talon, you need to see a doctor. You're in bad condition." It was Cade who spoke the voice of reason.

"Doctor? No, he'll need a priest for his funeral when I'm done with em'!" Bonzo seemed irate at Talon's defiance of defeat.

"You continue to impress me." Katarina rang, her voice quivering ever so slightly, perhaps from fear.

Ahren remained silent, as always. Her blue eyes seeked for some emotion from the darkness his hood cast over his face. Was he angry, or injured, or just exhausted? Why had he stood again?

Her question answered itself. Talon tilted his head up very slightly, revealing a full fledged grin adorning his face. It was

a broken smile, and his mouth was covered in blood, but it was unsettling to say the least.

They all saw that toothy, sadistic, insane grin of his, and in truth, were frightened. The Crimson Elite prided themselves on not only their skill in battle, but also their fearlessness.

It was an emotion that got you killed. As such, part of being in the Crimson Elite meant you had to forget fear. Forget how it feels to have a knife to your throat. Forget how it feels to be dead.

It was an emotion better left buried.

But The Blade's Shadow had an uncanny ability to instill fear. Even in the Crimson Elite.

He walked slowly, insidiously towards them. His eyes remained covered, but his mouth still had the same smile plastered onto it. With each step more blood seeped from his wounds, but if it hurt he showed no signs of pain.

He cracked each one of his knuckles individually. The resounded with a _*pop* _as he continued forward, each step measured and calculated, like he was something less than human.

Maybe he was.

Maybe he always had been.

Bonzo wiped his forehead as it beaded with sweat and swallowed his fear. "What are we standin' round' for? He's half fuckin' dead! Les' finish em' off!" He bellowed, charging forward with a fist raised high.

He neared The Blade's Shadow, and once within striking distance, brought his fist down with as much strength as he could muster.

It collided with The Blade's Shadow's palm as he caught the punch. Bonzo struggled to break free of his vice grip, but to no avail. Slowly the grip became tighter and tighter. Bonzo groaned, trying anything he could to get The Blade's Shadow to release him. He swung his left fist at him, but the Shadow merely ducked out of its way. He swiped his right foot through The Blade's Shadow's feet, but the Shadow merely hopped over it. The constant pressure went on for what felt like minutes, until finally Bonzo's right hand gave way.

_*Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack*_

Bonzo yelled bloody murder, screaming like he never had before. His right hand had been utterly destroyed. Each finger was individually broken at all three joints, the palm had been shattered and twisted into the wrong direction. He would never be able to use it again.

The Blade's Shadow wasn't done. Bonzo tried to run away, back to the safety of his comrades, but was drug back by a hand on his neck. The Blade's Shadow threw a right hook on the now kneeling Bonzo. It knocked at least four of his teeth clean out.

Cade had enough. "If we don't do something, Talon's gonna kill him! C'mon!" He frantically yelled to his team.

* * *

Riven stirred, trying as best as she could to get the world to stop spinning and to reorient herself. Her head still pounded from the blow but she tried her best to remember how she got here. She recalled that Katarina had struck her across the face unexpectedly, and the force of the blow had rendered her temporarily unconscious. It was very temporary, though, because in a matter of minutes, she awoke from her comatose.

She also recalled the reason she had gotten up into the arena in the first place.

Talon.

He was getting beaten mercilessly. Swain had pitted him against four; it was impossible, even for him. She had stayed on the sidelines and watched as long as she could, but eventually she had had enough. He may have committed some atrocious crimes in his life, but no one deserved to be punished like that.

Speaking of Talon, Riven diverted her gaze above, only to find him. He stood tall, facing three of the Crimson Elite members whilst holding Bonzo in his own grasp. Even though she was still somewhat disoriented, she could make out his injuries. They were serious, gravely serious. She didn't know how he was still conscious, but something about the way he loomed over Bonzo was… disturbing.

The other Crimson Elite members seemed to be in some sort of argument. Ahren remained silent and kept her eyes on Talon, but Cade and Katarina were verbally fighting over something. Perhaps whether to save Bonzo or not? Cade's eyes seemed to grow more and more desperate as neither of his teammates left their positions. She noticed Swain, standing outside of the arena, yelling in the general direction of Talon. The other members remained outside of the arena, wishing to not be involved in whatever the hell was going on. Things seemed to be reaching a boiling point.

That's when Talon spoke:

"**Shut up." **

It wasn't the anger in his voice that scared them. It wasn't the pain. It wasn't the craziness.

It was the absence of all of those things that scared them. All of them.

Despite being injured and severely tortured, his voice came out cool and collected, as always. One may think that an individual would get used to his lack of emotion with time. They would be wrong. To this day, it still sent shivers down Riven's spine, often making her think of that day he murdered her friends like they were pigs.

Silence shrouded the arena, but not for long.

"Talon! Release him at once! That is your teammate!" Swain boomed angrily.

Talon tightened his grip around Bonzo's arm. "I was their teammate." He pointed an accusing finger at the three members of the posse still standing. "Did that stop them?"

"Talon, listen to me!" Swain was frantic now. He knew he couldn't stop Talon with force; The Blade's Shadow was too strong, even for him. His only option was reason, but that seemed to be an ever shrinking hope.

Talon held up a palm to Swain. "No, you listen to me. First, I am going to kill this pathetic excuse for a human being," He shoved Bonzo all the way to the ground. "Then I am going to kill the rest of the group assigned to beating me." Talon adjusted his cowl and faced Swain with emotionless eyes. "Then I am going to kill you."

Riven's breath hitched in her throat. Those words cut right through her and chilled her to the bone. It was just too much to handle at once. Ever since Talon joined their forces, she made a promise to herself to fix him. Despite her anger, grief, and thirst for vengeance directed towards him, there was an underlying feeling he of sadness and pity. She wanted to right all of the wrongs that had been done to him in his despair-filled life.

But she was too late. Because now he was a loose cannon, and if she didn't stop him, he would kill everyone in here.

* * *

Talon lifted the heel of his boot high into the air and brought it down into Bonzo's skull with a sickening _*thud*. _The poor bastard's cranium caved in as the force from the blow allowed Talon's boot to pass easily through the flesh and bone and straight into the brain.

Bonzo's corpse slumped to the ground, blood oozing from his skull cavity. If the other Crimson Elite were sad for their friend's sudden death, The Blade's Shadow didn't give them time to show it. He charged forward and went straight for Cade. Cade attempted to protect himself, but The Blade's Shadow released a barrage of punches. Cade fell victim to Talon's onslaught, receiving several blows to his head and throat. The Blade's Shadow didn't stop. He pressed his advantage and continued pounding mercilessly on the man he once considered a "friend". Katarina and Ahren made their move and attacked Talon from two different directions. Noticing this, he performed a backflip to evade their strike. Once distancing himself from them, he lunged forward, grinding his teeth together in anticipation. The trio met, but it was The Blade's Shadow who came out ahead.

Talon brought his fist to Katarina's face with speed so fast even she could not block it. His heavy punch collided against her forehead with a resounding _*slam*_. Her body whiplashed and fell limp onto the ground. Talon began making his way to the last member of the Elite that had tortured him: Ahren.

She was trapped in the corner of the arena and forced to stare down The Blade's Shadow as he slowly made his way to her. It felt like staring death himself in the face.

For the fourth time that day, The Blade's Shadow showed no mercy. Ahren was no match for him, and when he got her to the ground, he beat her relentlessly. Each punch seemed more forceful than the last and she seemed on the brink of death as her breathing slowed and her eyes began to gloss rest of the Crimson Elite and Swain were forced to watch. Interfering with Talon in this state would be suicide.

The Blade's Shadow put one of his blood covered hands around her throat and began choking the life out of her. His fingers felt like daggers as they scraped into her skin. He leaned in close to her and whispered:

"No need to be scared, Ahren. Death is the best part of life."

Just when she seemed mere seconds away from her demise, a white haired woman shoved Talon off of her.

He fell to the ground but quickly regained his composure. When he stood and looked his assailant eye to eye, a slight frown spread across his face.

"I thought of all the people in this room, you would be the last to intervene." He said venomously.

"I will not let you harm anyone!" Riven shouted back, standing defiantly up to him.

He chuckled a hollow, pitiful laugh. "This is what you've always wanted, isn't it?"

She only stared at him in response.

He continued. "To kill the man who murdered your friends all those months ago."

She remained silent.

His cleared his throat. "You've changed. I can see it in your eyes. They used to be full of compassion and hope, but now… now they're nothing but two hollow chasms of anger and suppressed rage. Yes, Riven, you've changed. You're like me now."

**A/N: sry for delay. review pls. pce.**

**-rdr**


	10. Chapter 10

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion: Take Me Home- Hollywood Undead**

**Chapter 10: **_**The Shadow Incarnate**_

* * *

_i._

_The closer you get to the light,_

_The greater your shadow becomes._

_-Kingdom Hearts_

_i._

* * *

"Riven…" His voice sounded like nails scratching a chalkboard to her.

"Back down, Talon. I'm warning you." She tried to keep her voice steady, but it was dangerously close to being turned into a yell.

"Or what? You're gonna fight me?" Talon scoffed and stood his ground. "You barely survived the first time we fought. You think a few months is gonna change that?"

"You wanna find out?!" Her usually serene voice had turned into unkempt rage. She had had enough. From the start of their partnership, she wanted to save whatever soul he had left. The things he endured were not his fault, and she could not bring herself to hate a man who had no control over his fate. But she understood now. She understood everything. There was nothing left in this man to save. Slowly she raised her fists to her eye level as with every passing second she grew more enraged.

He gestured for her to come forth with his hand. "Entertain me." He said.

She happily obliged.

The two warriors clashed. Fists flew from the both of them, searching for any vulnerable flesh to take advantage of. Riven hooked right, Talon countered to the left. Riven swung left, Talon parried to the right. The two seemed to be in perfect sync, predicting and countering each others' moves at every turn in the brawl. They also presented a glaring contrast to one another. Riven's emotions had fallen out of check and been released all at once. Her anger was her fuel to keep going, even when her body told her to stop. Her pure fury kept her fists hammering away at The Blade's Shadow. Meanwhile, Talon had fallen back into his cold demeanor. His eyes remained calm and placid, scanning for an opening in her defenses. His movements were precise and calculated. With every strike, Riven grunted or released a yell of vexation. With every blow, The Blade's Shadow made no noise, as if he was a ghost. Despite his perhaps fatal injuries, he moved as fluidly as ever, and if he was in pain, he did not let it show.

Swain had long since ordered the still conscious members of the Crimson Elite to leave. Now, only he remained to watch his best commander and his best experiment fight to what could be the death. Observing the situation, he came to the conclusion that due to the extensive injuries Talon had received over the course of the sparring, and the fatigue gripping his body after hours of misery, he could probably subdue The Blade's Shadow without killing him. It would definitely salvage whatever was left of this situation, considering the only real casualty so far had been Bonzo, and Swain had never considered him a very important asset to the Crimson Elite.

However, he chose not to interfere. Instead, he merely watched silently and reveled in the most pristine art that was combat. Not restraining Talon could result in the death of Riven, which would be a major loss for him, considering how skilled she was as a commander. It could also result in the death of Talon, but the chances of that happening were so small he barely even entertained the idea. The Blade's Shadow was a survivor, and survivors always find a way to make it through, no matter the cost. Regardless, he couldn't skip this opportunity to study The Blade's Shadow further. He was no longer just fighting against the Crimson Elite members; he was fighting against his partner. They had done countless missions in the last three months together, and Swain noticed they had been getting along better as of late. She was the closest thing he had to a friend. So the tantalizing question Swain was so desperately waiting to be answered was: would he kill her?

They danced across the entire room, ranging corner to corner. The fight had lasted several minutes at this point, with neither side willing to give even an inch. They both momentarily broke, each pouncing a few feet away to regain their composure. Talon's hood had long fallen, revealing his murky brown eyes and the perspiration rolling gently down his chiseled face. Riven felt blood dripping from her side, most definitely from one of Talon's attacks. The two heaved, attempting to intake as much air as possible while they slowly circled each other. It was Talon who spoke in between breaths.

"You have gotten stronger." _*gasp* _"Won't matter though."

Riven raised an angry eyebrow. "Eh? _*gasp*_ What's that supposed to mean?!

"You can pretend to be like me all you want, but in the end you're just a soldier, a pawn." Talon knew his comment would piss her off. He was counting on it.

"At least I'm not some damn mercenary pretending to be a soldier! You were never one of us! You were always a murderer, a freak! Why don't you go back to that hell hole you crawled out of!" Her brow had creased as sweat beaded on her forehead. It took a lot of energy to throw that insult; not that it mattered. She was insulting Talon, of all people. He wasn't fazed by anything.

Astonishingly, Talon stopped in his tracks. It seemed to surprise Riven as much as it surprised him. He never hesitated. Ever.

His mind was racing. What she had said, why did it make him feel so… odd? It wasn't like being insulted was new to him; he had been insulted throughout his whole life. Discrimination was familiar. People in the slums were looked at as lesser beings. Treated as if they were not human. But her comment had made him feel... bad? He had trusted her for months to have his back, and over the time, they had grown to acquaintances at the least. Friends may be a stretch, but they were something. And those words she had just said… for some reason they felt eerily similar to the feeling he had when Kayvn sold him out. Like a knife wrenched itself from his heart only to make a second entrance. For the first time in many, many years, Talon doubted himself.

_Am I just gutter trash? Am I just a murderer? Is there nothing to me but the Shadow?_

The last sentence she uttered had cut the deepest. "_Why don't you go back to the hell hole you crawled out of!"_

"If you insist." He felt the words slide off his tongue in the same smooth way as always. And with one swift turn, he walked away from her as she stood mouth agape and eyes wide. His demeanor had remained as it always was: cold and uncaring. In his head, however, an inner turmoil raged.

His whole life people had turned their back on him. Stabbed him in the back. Left him to die.

Now it was his turn to turn his back on them. On her. On Swain. On the Crimson Elite. From here on out, he would truly walk alone.

* * *

Riven brought her hand to her head in the form of a salute to General Darkwill. She was being assigned another mission. It was the fourth one this week. She was handed a folder which contained her objective and her target, and went out to search for her partner, Cade.

Cade had been designated as her new partner since Talon left three weeks ago.

It felt like it had been years since she had seen him, though. The Crimson Elite felt different without him. Everything seemed different. She was prepared and expecting to die when she fought him. She may have been angry, but she wasn't stupid. She was fighting The Blade's Shadow in a one on one duel. Most didn't live to tell the that tale, yet he left without injuring her much of all. And as far as she knew, he had practically disappeared. She expected the trail of murders he had left in the slums before he entered the Crimson Elite to surface again, but they had not. Now she had no idea if he was even alive, and felt like something was missing from her life. Make no mistake, she did not like him. In fact, she quite despised what he was and what he did. But her conscience always seemed to get the better of her and invoke feelings of pity and guilt. He had struggled so much, and when he needed her most, she pushed him away. Perhaps forever.

Sighing, she tried to clear her mind by figuring out what her newest mission was about. She opened the vanilla colored folder and nearly vomited when she read her newest target for assassination.

* * *

Nothing was the same after he left. Talon had not just left the Crimson Elite; he had left Noxus entirely. It may have been his home, but the amount of bad memories he had associated to this god-forsaken city were far too great to stay. The Crimson Elite would be looking for him as well. He had killed one of their own, and they would want revenge. Not to mention the bizarre obsession Swain had with him. So he had to have a change of scenery and go to a place where he could fall back into old habits. Only problem was that the Crimson Elite would chase him to almost any place he could go. So he went to the one place they would never dare to venture. Demacia.

Getting in was almost too easy. There are many, many secret passages that bypass the towering walls of Demacia, just as there were many "backdoors entrances" into Noxus. Undoubtedly, many spies traveled to both countries using these tunnels and doors. Talon had picked up a few things in the Crimson Elite, such as the locations of such passages. The problem wasn't getting in, however, it was fitting in.

He hated Demacia as much as any Noxian. The vibrant colors, the bright lights, and the citizens always so joy-filled disgusted him. Life was too torturous for people to always act happy like they did. When he would walk through the streets, trusty hood covering his face, he would notice the smiles glued to their faces like plastic. They greeted each other with hugs and kind words. Such things were taboo in Noxus. These people trusted each other to a fault. In Noxus, the only things to trust were your blade and your brain. Anyone and anything else was out to kill you. It had taken some time to adapt to the lifestyle here, but he eventually began to fit in as if he were one of them. He was particularly skilled at adapting so it wasn't too difficult a feat. Mostly just tedious.

Now he donned his hood down when he walked in the streets. At least he did during the daytime. He wore a blue and gold shirt that he had _borrowed _from a vender. His legs were adorned with plain black pants. Now, he greeted those who smiled at him with a smile back. Occasionally he threw in a wave for good measure. The reason? If he was going to survive in this place he would have to become like a Demacian. His Noxian roots ran deep but they were not so far implanted into him that he could not at the very least fake his identity. He told those who asked who he was that his name was Jack and that he recently moved here from Piltover. As gullible as Demacians are, they seemed to buy it without a second thought.

During the nights he shifted back into his old hobbies and mannerisms. The detached, indifferent Talon came out; the real Talon came out. He would hunt, much like back in Noxus, except this time the game was bigger. The people he killed in this city carried ten fold the gold the people in the slums carried. The biggest downside was the much higher security. Guards were everywhere in Demacia. Wandering the streets, meandering through alleys, and everywhere else crime might occur. This meant he had to be a great amount more careful and precise of who his target was and when he murdered them. He also could not afford to leave a trail. Murdering several times in the same place would give him away in an instant. Those chasing him would find out and find him. He could not afford to have that happen.

He had almost been caught a few times by guards, but lately he had cleaned up his sloppiness and been very incognito. During the day he was an outstanding citizen of Demacia. During the night he was its bane.

* * *

The middle aged man stumbled his way out of the local tavern, _Zigler's Peak, _and began making his way back home. His breath had the strong stench of alcohol, specifically rum, and with every belch he released its aroma into the streets of Demacia. It was well into the night, 3:00 A.M. to be precise. The street lights were on but not many citizens strode through the street. Save for a few guards, it was empty. Mid stride the drunk tripped on his own foot and landed on the ground with a _thud. _Realizing he was way too drunk to get home by himself he sought for help. It was found only a few feet away in the form of a younger man, perhaps in his twenties, leaning against a light post.

"Hey, boy." The middle aged man slurred. "You wanna help _*hic* _an old geezer like me get back to my house?"

The younger male turned and smiled, "Sure thing. What's your address? I'll walk you there."

The man thought for a moment before remembering his own address. "Ah! Yesh! It's 417 Berkley Avenue."

"You're in luck, that's close to my house. C'mon, I'll walk you there."

"Thankya, boy."

"My pleasure, sir."

The two walked in silence, as the younger of the two wrapped his arm around the elder one's shoulder to assist in walking. They didn't stir much conversation, but instead enjoyed the peaceful silence that befell the city during late hours.

"I know a shortcut, old man, wanna take it?" The younger man asked nicely.

"Shure thing, kid."

The duo made its way into an alley behind a closed bakery. They younger man looked at both exits of the alley to assure himself that no one was there. He suddenly stopped, bringing the older gentleman to a stop as well.

"Say, kid, this don't look like no short cut I ever seen."

The younger man didn't respond, merely flipped on the hood he had previously been wearing down.

"What is this?" The older man was getting irritated at the mysterious of the younger man.

The younger man revealed the arm blade hidden under his sleeve; allowing its clean steel to shine in the moonlight. He observed it with eyes of affection like it was a living thing.

The older man grew angry, not scared, at the sight if the blade. "You gonna rob me, punk?!"

"No. I'm just going to kill you." The younger man said in a voice just above a whisper. Before the older man had a chance to react, the arm blade was driven through his skull, scattering his brain and blood across the wall behind him.

Talon smiled at his work. He had been watching this particular individual for a few days now and noted his very large spending at stores. Clearly he was a man of wealth, but he had no personal security accompanying him. It made him a prime target for The Blade's Shadow.

Silently, Talon took out a piece of cloth and wiped down his arm blade. The blood, still very fresh, seemed to just scrape right off. As soon as it was spotless, he kneeled down and searched the man on the ground. After a few seconds he found what he was looking for: a sack containing coin. Talon opened it and grinned sheepishly. There had to be at least 30 gold in the sack. It was quite a score, even for him.

He exited the alley and left to return to his home. His hood was down now, revealing his handsome features. He passed a few women, perhaps in their mid twenties, and waved. They giggled and waved back.

_I really am a model citizen, huh?_

* * *

"Swain!" The anger in Riven's voice was apparent, even from the other side of his door. She barged in without knocking and took her seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"What can I help you with, Riven?" He already knew what this was going to be about, but decided to ask anyway.

She threw down the file for her next mission. "This is what this is about!" The file was open, and on the inside was a paper marked "Target for assassination". On this page was one name: Talon, and a picture of his face. It also had his whereabouts listed as: Demacia, address unknown.

"I'm not any happier about it than you are. I lobbied very hard for Darkwill to cancel this mission and instead replace it with a recovery mission, but he overrode me. For the time being, I cannot do anything to stop it. The last thing I want is The Blade's Shadow dead." Swain voice sounded tired, and the bags under his eyes were evidence that what he was saying was true.

"I can't do it. He could've killed me easily the last time we fought, but he chose not to. Where would the honor be in killing him in cold blood like this?" Riven was pleading for something to be done about this mission, but knew it was to no avail. Darkwill was infuriated that Talon had not only killed one of their own, but also broken his pledge. He wanted him dead.

She, however, did not want him dead. It was something she couldn't admit, not even to herself, but she wanted him to be alive. To live a life he never could in Noxus.

"On the brightside, Darkwill could send the entirety of the Crimson Elite to kill him and it still wouldn't be enough. Talon would kill all of you." Swain seemed almost excited at the thought.

"That's reassuring." Riven said sarcastically.

"If he did kill all of you, Darkwill would just negotiate with Demacia to have him found. He couldn't hide from an entire city, no matter how good he is."

"So what are we to do?" Riven knew Swain could figure something out. He was a master tactician, after all.

Swain thought for a moment, staring blankly into the ceiling. His head bobbed slightly as his brain hatched a plan.

"Have you told anyone else of this mission?" He asked.

"No, you're the first."

"Perfect. When you and your squad depart, inform them that the mission is to capture Talon alive. I know a safehouse you can bring him to near Demacia afterwards."

"Didn't you just say Talon could kill all of us if he wanted to? I doubt he is going to be captured easily." Riven's voice was doubtful.

"That's why you're tagging along." Swain hatched a mischievous grin.

"I don't follow." She said, confused by his vague explanation.

"Talon won't kill you, or rather, he can't."

Riven was perplexed. "Why?"

"Because you are the only thing keeping whatever microscopic amount of humanity he has left in his soul alive. If he kills you, he surrenders himself entirely to the darkness. And he knows that."

**A/N: Sorry this took so damn long to finish. I had writers block and a stressful couple of of weeks which made it near impossible to be satisfied with this new chapter. Finally, I am satisfied just barely enough to post it. Hope it wasn't too bad. Relax and review. pce.**

**-rDr**


	11. Chapter 11

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion: I'm A Mess- Ed Sheeran**

**Chapter 11: **_**The Fire**_

* * *

_i._

_There is a savage beast in every man, _

_And when you hand that man a sword or spear and send him forth to war,_

_The beast stirs._

_-George R.R. Martin_

_i._

* * *

The streets of Demacia were bustling with activity. Children ran amok playing tag, vendors sold their various products, guards patrolled, and the everyday citizens walked around, greeting each other with a smile and kind words. The sun spread its bright rays gracefully across the city and a slight breeze tickled the skin. It was what most would call pleasant.

Not for Talon, though. He walked like one of them, talked like one of them, looked like one of them, but he was _not _one of them, no matter how hard he tried to be. The children's high pitched cries of joy gave him a headache, the vendors irritated him with their constant pestering, and the citizens meandered the streets aimlessly, as if they had no reason to be there. The sun's shining rays nearly caused him to hiss in annoyance; being in plain sight like this was something he definitely tried to stay away from. Still, his fake identity seemed to have yet to be compromised. These bumbling fools suspected nothing, because to them he was just a stranger from Piltover. _Gullible and undisciplined. _He truly did hate these people. He had always heard stories from other Noxians about the idiocy of Demacians, but he always shrugged it off as just hearsay or propaganda. Turns out it was completely factual.

Talon sat upon a bench on the side of the road and relaxed his head against its back. He watched the people that walked about, observing them, analyzing them, studying them. He saw a fat man that looked like a pig walking hand in hand with an attractive woman. The man wore elegant clothing and gold on his wrist, and the woman wore various many diamonds as jewelry. She hugged his arm and kissed his neck.

He chuckled to himself. Such things were universal, he supposed. Those who had money had everything they wanted: Women, clothing, political influence, land, notoriety, you name it. His attention was grabbed by a young couple sitting on the opposite side of the street on a bench. They young man, with gelled hair and a slick smile, held his arm around the woman by his side, with long locks of brunette hair flowing down her shoulders, vivid green eyes, and curves so tempting if Talon were a pervert he may have had to gawk awhile longer. Fortunately, he was not, and diverted his gaze back to the man. He embraced her in a hug which translated to a small kiss and a lover's stare. Talon recalled back to his life and realized he had never actually been "in love". He supposed it was a luxury that he could not afford back then, and most definitely not now. Loving people got you killed, and his interests were staying alive, so it would be a mistake he wasn't keen on making. Besides, his cold personality shoved everyone away that tried to get close to him. Nobody could ever care about him. It was tragic, but all too true. And he wouldn't want it any other way.

His eyes befell a young boy, perhaps ten years of age. He did an excellent job of blending into the crowd, and if Talon's eyes weren't so trained, he would not have noticed him. The boy was wearing rags for a shirt and tattered pants. He was emaciated, revealing the outline of his ribcage and brown skin clearly through the gaps in his shirt. The young boy seemed to feel The Blade's Shadow's gaze and glanced back at him. His eyes told Talon everything he needed to know. At first they seemed hollow and empty, lacking both conviction and spirit. But behind them, he could see the faint embers that stirred. The anger and strength that resided inside of him. One day, those embers would kindle, and turn into a flame, then soon after, a fire, followed by a raging inferno. He knew this because it was what he saw when he looked into a mirror as a youth. A boy who had been cast aside and left to die, who was angry at the whole world. Such was the life of a street rat.

He continued watching the boy. He had clearly been living on the street for awhile now, because his movements were fluid and his hands were trained. Time and time again, he walked by one of the fruit vendors and stole something. Not anything large, mind you, but an apple, then a pear, and then an orange. Each time he got away with it cleanly. Talon felt himself smirk; the boy truly did remind him of himself. The boy reached for a particularly large grapefruit when his arm was snatched by the vendor who had seen him stealing it. The vendor yelled at him and did not release his grip. Seconds later, a pair of guards appeared and snatched the boy up. Talon vaguely heard one of the guards threaten him with prison as they drug him away.

Talon found himself disgusted. In Noxus, they had no middle class. There were no morals. There was no hope. But here, it was different. It was _so _different. Demacians prided themselves on their ability to help others, so where was the help for that boy? He had obviously been living on his own for awhile, and judging by his body, had hardly eaten during that time. Where were the all powerful and ever noble Demacians to give that boy a home and something to eat? The answer was obvious. Instead of helping the less fortunate, they sat upon their thrones of gold and fortune and preached flawed justice to all of Runeterra. They were so pompous, so full of themselves, so obsessed with their own outlook on morality that they condemned anyone who saw it differently. But they had no idea what real justice was. They had lived their whole lives in wealth and prosperity, basking around in their fortified walls without a worry in the world. How can one judge right and wrong without first living out experiences to base his or her assumptions off of? How could they so easily sentence a young boy to prison for merely stealing to get by when they never had to work a day in their lives for a meal?

It was wrong. It was all so wrong. Talon normally wasn't one to think about morality, for in most situations it did not matter. However, this was one of the rare cases when it irked him. He hated hypocrites, and Demacians displayed the very definition of hypocrisy. It made him feel slightly happier that he had begun killing them instead of Noxians.

* * *

_Demacia, 0200 hours. Crimson Elite Mission 15-129. Target for assassination: Talon. Evac time: 0600 hours._

The four figures skulked in the shadows of Demacia's streets. They traveled through alleys, in the tunnels of sewers, and on rooftops to remain hidden from the Demacians. If the Crimson Elite were caught in Demacia it would create a very irritable conflict between city-states. Remaining out of sight was priority one. Priority two was killing Talon.

The soldiers were none the wiser, though, besides their leader. Riven had done as Swain commanded and told her comrades it was a recovery mission. They were under the impression to capture him by any means necessary, so long as he was alive by the end of it. The group consisted of Arien, Cade, Ahren, and of course Riven. They were equipped with the latest weaponry and gear that the Crimson Elite had at their disposal. Black leather lined their bodies and hugged their skin tightly. At first glance, it seemed somewhat comical, but embedded in the leather was chain mail. Not only did it serve as excellent armor, but it also was incredibly light, making it easier to move fluidly and quickly.

One of their spies in Demacia had recognized Talon about a week ago. Once he informed Darkwill, the general had the spy follow Talon to figure out where he was staying. Once he had finally produced an address, they had been assigned the mission. Now, they were only a few minutes away from where the address stated Talon would be. Riven gripped her blade tightly and pressed on.

* * *

Talon's home was nothing to fancy. He had found it shortly after arriving in Demacia whilst wandering around to get reacclimated with the city. It was a bit worn down, with mildew beginning to spread on its ceiling and paint chipping from the yellow walls, but it was nothing too bad. The owner was selling it so cheap that he could not resist. He put a down payment on it and had begun collecting the money he would need to pay it off little by little. It was small and only consisted of five rooms, but he liked it. Not something too fancy, but also not equivocal to sleeping on a piece of cardboard like he had done so many times in his life. It wasn't perfect, but it was home.

The Blade's Shadow crept into his house late into the night. It had been an unsuccessful evening; he had been following one particularly wealthy target around for hours, but a lapse in his security never occurred, therefore he could not make his move. He removed his shirt, cape, and hood, leaving only a plain white undershirt that clung to his skin. The assassin sat in a chair and propped his feet up on his table while laying his head back to relax. It had been a long day, and the momentary rest and the sleep he would get soon were very welcome. Without moving positions, he equipped his arm blade and laid it on the table. Talon then took a few deep, measured breaths and let his mind go blank. It was all very pleasurable. He loved the serenity that came with living alone.

* * *

The Crimson Elite slowly approached The Blade's Shadow's home, now creeping along its exterior. The lights were off, and it seemed as if he may be asleep, but Riven had yet to order the command to breach. She stood by the door, intently listening to what was on the other side. So far there was nothing but silence. An eerie, hollow silence.

She steeled her nerves and began the countdown on her fingers for her teammates to know when she was breaching. They waited quietly just behind her, primed to charge.

_3…_

_2…_

_1…_

* * *

Talon had long lost touch with reality, only listening to his steady breaths while reclining in his chair. His ear twitched and he faintly heard something akin to a twig snapping outside. His eyes popped open and he lunged for his blade on the table. Mid lunge, the door was broken down as a figure dressed in black made their way in. He didn't have time to equip his arm blade and was forced to use it crudely by gripping the blade with his bare hand and swinging it like it was a sword. He barely had enough time to meet his foe's sword, and for a moment, the two stood close, blades locked in a fierce struggle for dominance. And in that moment, he knew exactly who was after him.

He grunted and pushed the assailant off of him and took a split second to analyze the rest of his enemies. He saw three, no, four total. All of them wore dark leather and masks, but he recognized their weapons immediately. They had found him. The Crimson Elite had found him.

He did not take any time to exchange harsh words, or to attempt to reason with his former comrades. He knew he couldn't fight them with his blade in such an awkward position, and to equip it would take time he did not have. That left only one viable option left.

To run.

It may seem cowardly, but he was told once it was better to live a coward than die a hero. He took those words to heart. He had weighed his odds and deduced that he was no match against four of the most dangerous people in Noxus, fully equipped with armor and blades, while he held his blade awkwardly as it slowly continued to cut into his hand. In an effort to draw their attention he flung his arm blade towards the group, and in that split second that they ducked under it, he was gone.

"Fuck!" He heard one of the Elite's shout behind him as he bolted through the door. "Follow him!"

He recognized that voice… He had thought he would never hear it again.

* * *

He had only been sprinting for perhaps two minutes. But in those two minutes, he had to pull every ounce of will in the arsenal that was his mind to evade the Crimson Elite. They were fast, faster than before. Or perhaps he had gotten slow. Regardless, when they gained ground on him, and gain ground they did, he had no choice but to run faster. To work harder. To push further. Not once did Talon look behind him. He kept his eyes planted forward, searching for his next route.

In hindsight, he had lived his whole life this way; being pushed to the brink of death, and then some, and yet still somehow looking forward instead of succumbing to the tragedies of his past. At any given moment in the slums he could have given up. It would have been _so fucking easy. _He could have just stopped stealing, stopped _killing_, and allow himself to slowly starve to death. In the slums it was considered a good death to die from starvation, mainly because there were so many more morbid and appalling things out to kill you in that hell hole.

But he didn't let himself die. Though his body had been broken numerous times in the slums, his mind never was. You could torture him to the edge of death, kill his closest associates in front of his eyes, or burn down all of Noxus in a mass of hellfire and fury. He still would be mentally stable. After one witnesses so many disturbing things, so many inhuman things, they themselves become something less than human. Something like a shadow.

Talon was running out of real estate. The Crimson Elite had been steering him towards the inner city, and the further into the city you get, guards also increase in number. If he was spotted by them, the Demacians, it would all be over. Even if he got away, they would track his various murders back to him. He could _not _allow that to happen. Whatever the cost.

Talon rounded a corner ran into a crowded square. _Perfect. _It was happy hour at one of the local pubs and because of such a plethora of people stood around drunkenly. They would make great obstacles for the Crimson Elite. No later than a few seconds after he had rounded the corner, the Crimson Elite followed. But they found that in the gigantic crowd of people Talon was invisible. They had lost him.

* * *

"Where the fuck is he?!" Cade yelled into his transmitter, frantically shoving people out of his way to find The Blade' Shadow.

"Everyone split up, search the perimeter." Riven added. "He could be anywhere."

The four Crimson Elite spread out slowly, trying their best to locate Talon. Some people gave them a few odd looks; their unorthodox clothing made them stand out. Luckily, they were all drunk and didn't think twice about the funnily dressed people that dispersed through the crowd.

"Got him." Ahren said quietly into her transmitter.

The other three Elites' heads snapped to her position and followed her finger that pointed to a two story building Talon was currently scaling.

"That building is close. Go! Go! Go!" Riven yelled into her transmitter.

* * *

Talon's hands struggled to find adequate material for him to grip as he scaled his way up the side of the famous pub, _Twenty One Pilots. _It was taking longer than he had anticipated, and his nervousness at being seen was growing exponentially with every passing second. He turned his head slightly to keep an eye on the Crimson Elite scattering throughout the crowd when he saw they no longer were searching in the crowd; they were sprinting straight to the building he was climbing.

_Fuck. _

Talon neglected all caution and safety and instead pulled himself up the building with reckless abandon, grabbing anything he could and forcibly throwing himself up the side. Within a few seconds he reached the top and steadied his breathing before turning back to look down at the Crimson Elite and watch their progress. To his horror, each of them pulled out a small, black pistol and aimed it at him. He ducked and moved further onto the center of the roof when he heard them fire. To his dismay, they were not shooting ordinary bullets, they were shooting grappling hooks. Four large hooks lodged themselves into the roof of the building, and they quickly began pulling the Crimson Elite right on up.

Talon cursed his bad luck and took off on his feet. By the time the Crimson Elite had reached the roof, he had already jumped to another roof and was sprinting across it to what looked like a third roof he was planning to jump onto.

Riven did not need to issue the order; They pursued him instantly, sprinting and jumping from rooftop to rooftop, in hopes of catching this slippery bastard.

He could hear _everything. _The sound of boots colliding with stone, the curses thrown his way from a few of the frustrated Crimson Elite, his own heartbeat drumming steadily.

And he felt… alive. More alive than ever before. For so long, he had been the one doing the chasing. But now he was the prey, and they were the predators. It was an exhilaration like no other. Just the fact that any small mistake, any misstep, could result death, was enough to bring a smile to his face.

His enthrallment with the chase was abruptly cut off when he felt a sharp pain in his left calf. He didn't have time to see what it was that had just entered his leg because the sudden discomfort caused his leg to falter and slip, sending him to a skidding stop right next to the ledge of the rooftop. He tried to push himself off the ground and regain his composure.

But they were on him in seconds.

A heavy punch hit him directly in his core and knocked the wind out of him. He struggled to breathe and gasped for air. He saw the one that had struck him had taken their helmet off, so he looked up at his assailant.

And she looked down, eyes void of anything but anger and resentment and revenge. "Stand him up." Riven commanded, rubbing her knuckles.

Talon was yanked by his hair until he stood. Two of the Elite's held him up by his shoulders. He saw Cade reach down and pluck a small dagger from his leg.

_So that's what they stuck me with._

He faced Riven eye to eye. Again, he saw eyes that only held contempt and hatred. She cocked her arm back suddenly and threw it forward.

It slammed into Talon's cheek and whipped his head sideways. He didn't have time to fully recover when another punch his his chin, causing his head to brutally flip upwards. Then another punch came, and another, and another.

Finally, he turned his bloodied and bruised head towards her one last time and said one thing.

"I'm not going to beg… So kill me already." His voice was raspy and hoarse, but it did not show any signs of anger or pain. It was steady and unemotional, as always.

Riven spoke, "We aren't here to kill you. Swain's got plans for you back in Noxus." Her voice sounded angry, but not with murderous intent like he had thought she held before. It sounded more distressed than anything else.

Talon smiled. "Too bad." He spat blood onto the ground. "Cause' I ain't going back."

With all his might, Talon flung himself backwards. The action caught both of the Elites, Ahren and Cade, off guard and caused them to release their grasp on him. He stumbled off the side of the building and fell off its ledge ungracefully.

Riven stood still for a second. It was only when Arien asked for orders that she stirred.

"Cade, how far up is this rooftop." She was scared of the answer.

"Six stories." Cade then begrudgingly answered the question she had yet to ask. "Not even he could survive the fall."

Riven's mouth fell slightly agape and for a moment, her world froze. As if her mind could simply not compute that Talon may have just ended his own life because she had failed to restrain him.

The last thing she wanted to do was look over the ledge, but she also knew there was no knowing for sure unless she saw his body down there on the street, bloody and contorted.

Every step closer made her heart pound harder. Her mind race faster. Her knees feel weaker. She finally got to the ledge, and after steeling her nerve, looked over the edge.

For a moment she was silent. Dead silent. The other Crimson Elite looked at her questioningly.

"Son of a bitch!"

Talon smirked when he heard the Riven angrily yelling off in the distance.

* * *

**A/N: sorry for the long wait. but hey, on the bright side, this is a pretty lengthy chapter for me. sorry for any grammar mistakes. i didn't have a lot of time to edit this and i would feel guilty if i didn't publish it tonight. P.S. if i get one more review on this story, it will be my most reviewed story ever. so get to it! :^)**

**-RONALD DEL REAGAN**


	12. Chapter 12

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion: Goner- Twenty One Pilots**

**Chapter 12: **_**Lone Wolf**_

* * *

_i._

_Cold are the hands that grip at your soul._

_-Anonymous_

_i._

* * *

Riven walked gracefully into Darkwill's quarters with her head high and eyes filled with pride. One would think after letting Talon slip through her clutches she would be embarrassed at her failure, and in a way she was, but she knew that at least he still remained a free man. She was relieved in that regard.

Darkwill didn't seem angry or disappointed, merely irritated. He did not once yell or even so much as raise his voice; he knew it would be useless. His soldiers were adults, not children; they were not afraid of his voice. He had voiced his concerns and then dismissed her in a matter of a minutes, and once she left she released a breath long held in. She had expected to have been demoted or scorned or _something._ Darkwill, however, seemed tired and busy, and had little time to spare. He certainly didn't seem like he felt spending it dealing with one rogue soldier when he had a country to run.

As she walked down the dark corridor that led to Darkwill's office she was met with Swain.

"Good afternoon, General." She smiled slightly and offered a salute to her commander.

Swain smiled back. "Ah, Riven. A good afternoon it is, indeed." He gestured towards the end of the corridor where Darkwill's door was. "Leaving from a chat with our supreme commander I presume?"

Riven nodded. "Yes, we were discussing my most recent failure in obtaining Talon. Are you here to speak with him as well?"

"He has summoned me, so I suppose so. Although, I must admit, something about it does not bode well with me." Swain chuckled. "Well, I'm sure it's nothing. I shall see you later, Riven. Good day."

"Good day, General."

* * *

_10:43 P.M._

Talon grit his teeth as he tore the loose stitches from his calf and began replacing them. He had gotten away relatively unharmed from The Crimson Elite, but they had managed to stick him with this knife wound. It wasn't too bad, though, and Talon had been through much worse, so he barely even noticed it. He propped his legs up and took solace at the fact that he was back in his 'home'. At first, he had thought he would have to abandon the house he had purchased in Demacia. After staking it out for a few nights to see if the Crimson Elite were still stalking him he deduced that they had left the city entirely. That bought him a few weeks, maybe a month before they returned. During that time he would have to work _overtime _in order to garner enough money to purchase another place to stay. Things hadn't gone entirely to his plan, but for the most part they worked out.

_Could be worse._

Talon quickly dressed himself in his 'work' attire as night befell the city. After adjusting his cape and equipping his blades he left his abode and headed to his hunting grounds. The moon was high, the air was frigid, and it was time to _hunt._

* * *

_12:16 A.M._

Talon seamlessly launched a knife at the unknowing man below him. It implanted itself into the back of the man's skull, and he did not even utter so much as a sound when his body hit the ground, dead instantly. The Blade's Shadow quickly hopped off the rooftop he had been planted on and with haste searched the man's carcass. He found 15 pieces of gold in his front pocket; it was a good score for a random pedestrian. Talon assured himself that no one was watching with one final glance around at his surroundings then he disappeared in a matter of seconds.

* * *

_1:35 A.M._

The younger gentleman in front of The Blade's Shadow clutched at his throat in a panic because moments ago the Blade's Shadow had slit it wide open. Blood gushed out as he pressed his back against the alley wall. He tried to scream for help, but no sound was emitted from his throat. He tried again, and again, and again, but all he could do was silently scream with his mouth wide open.

"Looks like I cut your vocal cords. My bad." The looming figure overhead spoke nonchalantly as he crouched and glared at the young man eye to eye. His fear only heightened when he saw they careless expression his assailant eye's held; they looked as if they witnessed such horrific acts daily. In a way, they did.

The Blade's Shadow took great pleasure in watching the light fade from a person's eyes. It was a feeling like no other and elicited a white hot shock up his spine everytime. He took note of the horrified expression that remained plastered on his the young man's face even after he took his final breath. Or tried to at least. One would find it remarkably hard to breathe with a slit throat.

* * *

_2:56 A.M._

The two women ran as fast as their feet could carry them. One was older, perhaps in her forties, with blonde hair and gray eyes. The other was younger and more attractive, with brunette hair and voluptuous 'assets'. Talon didn't care. He pursued them through the street, flushing them into an abandoned building. Unfortunately for the two women, the only exit was also the only entrance. Meaning that they were trapped.

Talon stood in the doorway, shrouded by the darkness the night offered. The women screamed for help, but no one was within ear shot to offer assistance.

"If you give me all your gold right now, I won't hurt you." Talon held his hands up in a surrendering manner. "I promise."

With little to no choice, both women threw their coin purses at his feet. The Blade's Shadow picked up the purses, measured their weight for a few seconds, and slipped them into his pocket with a satisfied nod. "I don't hurt women." He continued, before throwing two small daggers simultaneously with blazing speed. The first dagger found its way into the older woman's eye socket and the second dagger made its way into the younger woman's heart. They both fell to the ground instantly and lay there, lifeless as the wood below them. "Just kidding." Talon jested, adorning a wolfish grin.

* * *

Jarvan the Third, reigning king of Demacia, sat lazily on his throne. In his right hand was a chalice nearly filled to the brim with red wine. He wore regal attire, unlike his son, Jarvan the Fourth, who normally sported heavy armor and that obnoxiously large spear. Just when his day seemed as if it could not become more boring, a young squire burst into his room with a paper in his hand.

"My liege." The squire kneeled before the king. "We have received a letter from High General Darkwill of Noxus. It is addressed to you." The king took the letter without a word and the squire hurried out of his throne room.

He squinted his old eyes at the letter as he read over it.

_ Dear King Jarvan,_

_It has come to my attention that recently one of my soldiers has gone rogue. We have found concrete evidence that he currently resides in Demacia. If this were an average soldier, I would not bother you with a letter. However, this is not some trivial occurrence. The soldier known in your city is known as 'Talon', A.K.A 'The Blade's Shadow'. He is incredibly dangerous and has a habit of going on killing sprees. Seeing as he currently resides within your walls, I give you full jurisdiction on how to deal with him. Be warned, sending common guards to capture or eliminate him will not be enough. It will take some of your finest soldiers to take him down. I wish you luck._

_ My Condolences, _

_ General Darkwill_

Jarvan the Fourth rubbed his templse as he processed the information from the letter. "Simon." He grumbled, calling to attention his most trusted knight. The knight turned to Jarvan and gave him his full attention.

"Gather our champions. We have a criminal to catch." Jarvan spoke.

* * *

_Two weeks later_

A sigh escaped Talon's lips as his most recent target slipped into a heavily populated crowd. He had been stalking him for around an hour and had yet to find an opening to go in for the kill, and now matters had been made worse. In just two weeks, Talon had accumulated nearly enough money to purchase his new home. Just a few more kills and he would be there. It would take awhile for an opening to arise on his target so he sat down on the rooftop he was currently on and relaxed his shoulders.

_*ahem*_

Talon jumped to his feet, turned around, and held out his blade in blazing speed. Whoever had snuck up on him had obviously intended for him to hear them as they cleared their throat, but one could never be too safe. He stood back, around twenty feet from a woman clad in armor with red and black hair and a rapier in her hand.

"How do you do?" She spoke, sporting a heavy accent.

He did not respond.

"What's ze matter? Cat got your tongue?" She continued. "I suppose introductions are in order. I am Fiora Laurent of the house of Laurent," She bowed to him. "and you must be Talon."

"What's it to you?" His voice was harsh and cold. He kept his eyes steadied on her weapon in case she made a move.

"I was assigned to find you and either kill you or bring you back captive." She said haughtily.

"How'd you find me?" He questioned.

"We have been looking for you for two weeks. Do you really think so little of us?"

"You snuck up on me… Impressive. Why did you not take a shot at me while I was distracted?" Talon asked.

"It is not courteous nor honorable for a duelist to attack an unknowing opponent. When I beat you, I will beat you fairly." She spoke with cockiness.

"You seem egotistical. How can you be so sure you will win never having faced me before?" Talon said.

"It is true, I have not faced you before, but I still know much about you. The Demacian troops speak of a man that moves like a ghost, kills as if it were nothing, and fights like an animal in a cage. They call you 'The Blade's Shadow', I think. That's cute." Fiora shot him a grin. "But I am the crowned duelist of Demacia. The people in this city are so scared of me they have stopped challenging me. I thirst for a good fight, and hopefully you can fulfill that."

"We shall see." Talon brought his arm blade low and crouched slightly while the two circled each other. He had never fought an actual "duelist" that specialized in purely technique and therefore was hesitant to charge in headstrong. He would allow her to dictate the fight at first, adapt to her style, and kill her. That may get the Demacians off his back for awhile.

Fiora charged him just as he had expected. She was fast in her approach and even faster with her attacks. She swung her rapier at his neck from the right with inhuman speed. He managed to counter and block it with his own blade, but just barely. It seemed in a matter of seconds she had directed another attack, this one from the left. He did not have enough time to parry it and instead leaned back to just evade the rapier's reach. The action put some distance between the two but she was on him in seconds. Her swings were fast and precise, but held little force behind them. If he could block in time, which for the most part he did, then he would have no trouble in the fight. Her barrage continued for around a minute or so until he felt he understood her technique enough and went on the offensive.

He noted that she was incredibly vocal during their fight. With every swing she grunted or yelled at him, and even threw in the occasional insult such as, "that all you got?!" or "not fast enough!". He was the exact opposite, remaining deathly quiet during the brawl, as he always did. Fiora lunged at an opening in his defense, but he had wanted her to. He spun to the right, effectively making the rapier hit nothing but air. In less than a second he thrust his arm blade at her midsection. Her eyes widened and she jumped back as fast as she could, but not before the blade slightly scratched the skin on her belly and tore the black spandex that covered her midriff. He went on the offensive, cleaving his blade at her in every way he knew. She managed to dodge most of them due to her impressive speed, but the attacks she could not dodge forced her to block with her rapier and sent her careening in a random direction. He was much stronger than her and his attacks held much more power, but she was faster than him, albeit slightly. It had been so long since someone had been faster than him that he found himself surprised on several occasions that she had been able to dodge his blows.

She was good.

But so was he.

The two clashed for several minutes. Slowly but surely, Talon started to lose ground. His attacks required a lot more effort and force behind them, and because of such he was getting worn out. He felt his strength slightly draining with every swing. Fiora, however, seemed to have an endless amount of stamina and still fought with the same speed she showed at the beginning of the fight. Knowing he had to end it fast before it was too late, Talon made a ballsy move and exposed himself in order to launch a powerful lunge straight at her neck. Just as his blow was about to connect, she ducked under it and impaled him in the chest with her rapier. The blade punctured his lung and exited out of his back. Before he could act, the rapier was pulled out and shoved through him again in nearly the same spot. _Double tap. _She kicked him and he toppled onto his back. The pain wasn't a problem for him, it never was. The inability to breathe, however, was a major issue. His breaths were strained and shallow as his lung collapsed and filled with blood. He blacked out and as Fiora stood over him, grinning in victory.

* * *

**A/N: I'm baaaaaaaack! So so so so sorry for my long absence. I stopped writing during finals and then once summer hit I was super busy with my job and social life. Luckily, I'm back for now. I'll try my best to crank out new chapters as soon as I can but nothing is set in stone with my schedule. Also, I realize now that I made a few errors early in the story, such as Talon being fucking OP as shit and going god-mode all the time. Guess I was caught up in the moment. Nevertheless, I'm doing my best to tone him back a bit and fix the other problems that are slowly creeping up. Reviews are always welcome, and I'm sorry for any grammatical mistakes as I am writing this quite late at night and won't have any time to revise it in the next few days. Hope to see you on the next update.**

**-RONALDO del REAGAN**


	13. Chapter 13

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion: Read My Mind- The Killers**

**Chapter 13: **_**Jaws of the Beast**_

* * *

_i._

"_The devil's voice is sweet to hear"_

_-Stephen King_

_i._

* * *

Talon's eyes shot open and with a violent stir he bolted upright. The first thing he noted was the odd feeling of smooth silk clinging to his skin. He hastily surveyed his surroundings with quick, darting eyes. He was in a bedroom, not a cell, much to his confusion. His last memory was of his duel with the Demacian fencer. He should be imprisoned- or worse.

Perhaps he was.

The Blade's Shadow removed himself from the comfortable bed quickly which caused an unintended surge of white hot pain to shoot through his chest. He lurched forward and gripped his upper body, noticing through the pain that it was bandaged quite heavily. He took a deep breath to calm himself and instantly regretted it. He discovered that it was much more difficult to breathe than before. The little amount of air that went into his lungs felt forced and unnatural. After the pain depleted, and he regained a steady, albeit painful, flow of air, he unwrapped the bandages to assess the damage dealt.

His wounds were not grotesque as one might imagine. He had seen his fair share of bad injuries, and his illustrious amount of scars were a testament to that. The only sign he had even been injured were two small puncture wounds on the right side of his chest. They did not run long across his body, but they ran deep. That must have been what was plaguing his lung. After a few more moments of assessment, the assassin got to his feet and exited the room.

If the inside of the room was surprising, the outside was downright astonishing. Talon found himself in a brightly lit hallway with walls lined in vivid gold and blue hues. Painting aligned nearly every inch of the hallway. Some were portraits of men and women, others were of battles. They looked expensive, though he did not consider himself an expert in the world of art.

_Where the hell am I?_

He crept down the hallway slowly, still without a sign of any other person. He made his way through the hallway and entered other rooms. First, he encountered the dining room. It was unoccupied but none the worse because of it. Steel cutlery was set out orderly in front of every red velvet chair all centered around a dark oak table. He then found what he assumed to be the kitchen, though it did not look like any kitchen he had ever seen. Large ovens sat themselves in every corner, along with a feast of unprepared foods, such as meats and vegetables. He saw a person in the far corner of the room tending to some fruits with a knife. At first he thought them a threat, but after a moment of inspection he realized they had to be some sort of servant or butler. Although their back was turned to him he could see the black clothing met by a white collar the servant wore. He continued making his way through the house, passing through other rooms such as the living room and a plethora of bathrooms. Having not been seen yet, he continued to use his expertise in stealth to creep around unnoticed. He came upon a large set of wooden doors marked overhead by large black letters that read "washroom". He pressed his ear against the wood and listened keenly. Before long, his heightened senses picked up on the sound of flowing water. Deciding to be bold since he had to discover as much about this place as he could before breaking out, he entered the room silently. He closed the large wooden door behind himself quietly and was met with a room filled with mist. Visibility was reduced to nearly zero as the mist enveloped mostly everything in his room. Regardless, he sneakily made his way through it. He could tell the room was wooden due to how it felt against his bare feet. He stopped dead in his tracks when the sound of a woman humming filled the air. She was outside of the room, he could tell that much. He could also tell that she was getting closer as her self-produced melody grew louder with each passing second. Seeking a place to hide, Talon dove behind a small wooden towel rack. He was in luck as well, because the rack seemed to cover him almost completely but the gaps between the towels and wood allowed him to see most of the room. Just then, the large wooden door he had entered through only moments ago shifted open. Whoever this person was was clearly not as careful as him, as the the door creaked and groaned from its rough opening. He could not see who came in, but did note that he had not heard the door close, meaning it must have been only slightly ajar in an effort to let the steam seep out.

The water splashed from the noise of someone entering the large bath in the center of the room. Talon could not move from his current position since the person in the room with him would surely hear. The steam caused beads of sweat to form on his face as he waited, taking small, soundless breaths. Before long, the steam nearly vanished due to it being let out. He peered through a crevice in the towel rack and his eyes found the face of the duelist he had faced earlier. She was sitting in the bath, with her face turned to him and eyes closed. She seemed to be relaxing, perhaps even taking a nap. Talon could not tell. She made no movements whatsoever, making him think it was the latter. He then realized that this was the first time he had ever been in such close proximity to a naked woman before. It made him feel… flustered. He had never had time for women in his days, and generally did not prey upon any urges that came. But he was still a man nonetheless, and could not help himself from the slight blush that tinted his cheeks.

_Keep it together. Gotta think about escaping. I'll wait for her to leave and follow her. Surely she knows the exit to this place._

He steeled his nerve and focused on the woman once again, waiting for her to make a move. Minutes passed without incident, until finally her eyes flickered open and she released a pent up yawn. She stood from the bath slowly, revealing her naked front in all its glory to The Blade's Shadow. Her breasts were medium sized and adorned by cute pink nipples. Her midriff was toned and flawless. Muscular yet seductive. Between her legs was a lone line of black hair that led to her southern lips. She turned around to reach for a towel, exposing her back to Talon. On her right shoulder was a tattoo of a dove. Her bottom was plump and toned. Large, but not overly. Her legs were that of an angel with white creamy skin. Talon could only gawk at what he assumed was the perfect form of a woman in front of him. She wrapped herself in a towel and went on her way, exiting out a door on the far end of the washroom. As soon as she closed the door, Talon let loose the combination of a sigh and groan. He had never been so… aroused before. No situation had ever called for it. Now he understood why everybody was fucking 24/7 in Noxus.

Once again he reminded himself that he needed to escape, so after taking a few moments to regain composure, the assassin followed where she left off and exited the washroom. He was now in yet another hallway. This one's walls were silver and deep blue, and only had one door at the end of it. He cautiously walked down it, listening intently for the sounds of voices or footsteps, but heard none. He had reached the door at the end of the hallway and opened it. He was met with two things: A beautiful room, painted yellow and green, with an enormous bed fit for a king, and a very confused, startled duelist.

"Shit." Talon said as he grew exasperated before her right hand slapped him across the face along with a shriek from her. He whiplashed and hit the ground hard.

"What do you think you are doing here?!" Fiora asked.

"I… Uh…" Talon stumbled over his words as he noticed Fiora was still wrapped in her towel, revealing much more of her skin to him than she would've liked. "I got lost."

"Hmph." Fiora said, irritated. "Shall I alert the guards of your escape?"

Talon put his hands up. "No need. I just want to talk."

Fiora mulled it over for a moment. "Fine, but turn around first."

Talon gave her a confused look.

"So I can change, idiot."

"...Right."

Talon turned his back to her and after a few tantalizing moments she gave him the okay to turn back to her.

She had made quick work and was now dressed in her everyday battle regalia.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions." She said.

Talon nodded in response.

"Some I will answer, some I will not."

"Where am I?" It was the first thing that came to mind and the question that had been bothering him the most since he woke up.

"You are in the house of Laurent, or more specifically, my house." She answered matter of factly.

"Why am I here?" Talon questioned.

"As opposed to what, exactly?" Fiora countered.

"Why am I not in jail, why am I not dead yet?" He pressed on.

"Ah, yes. Well, Demacia has no need to execute you, _yet._" Fiora spoke.

"Why not?" He asked.

"That, I cannot answer."

"Let me guess, your country wants to use me as a bartering tool. I'm more valuable alive than dead to them. They can threaten Noxus with my supposed sudden allegiance to Noxus. Something like that?"

Fiora's eyes slightly widened. "My, my. You are a smart one." Was her only response.

"Why am I in your house, though? Wouldn't a jail fit me better?" He pondered aloud.

"Well, I'm sure you're used to them." Talon ignored her verbal jab. "However, I presented the idea of you staying in my residence for awhile. Since you cannot escape with that lung of yours, and since I want to further experience your prowess in combat to assess you, they thought it a nice idea as well. They did however double the guards here, unfortunately."

Talon chuckled. The condescending tone of his laughing made Fiora irate.

"Why are you laughing? Is something funny?"

"Not really. Just that you Demacians never seem to give me the credit I deserve."

"What does that mean?"

"You think I can't escape because my lung is a little messed up? Pffff. I've broken out of hellholes ten times worse than this with two broken hands." Fiora was about to speak but Talon cut her off. "Don't worry, though. I've no intention of leaving. Not soon, anyway."

"I would question your motives, but my intuition tells me you would just respond sarcastically." Fiora said.

"You have a good intuition." Talon said with a sheepish smile. Fiora grinned in response.

"I shall call a servant to show you to the armory soon."

"Why?" Talon asked.

"First we shall equip you with armor, second we shall grant you a weapon, and then we shall spar. I've not had my fill of you just yet." She said with a hint of voracity behind her words.

"But you said it yourself, I'm injured. Pretty bad too. Wouldn't it be better to fight me on fairer terms?" The Blade's Shadow inquired.

"What fun is that?" Fiora said with a wolfish smile.

She was beginning to remind Talon of himself.

**A/N: I rly have to stop with these late updates :( I would explain why, but I'll just tell you that life got in the way, as it does most of the time. Regardless, here's the chapter. Sorry for it being short. Hope you liked it and enjoyed the eye candy. Reviewerino and tell me if I should have a Fiora lemon (not with Talon, probably with some other female champ). Been contemplating giving you guys an early present and a taste of whats to come. Anyways, GLHF.**

**(By the way, I hit diamond a few weeks ago /hype/)**

**-RoNaLd DeL rEaGaN**


	14. Chapter 14

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion: The Hills- The Weeknd**

**Chapter 14: **_**Son of Noxus**_

* * *

_i._

"_Deep down there's a decent man in me,_

_he just can't be found."_

_-Eminem_

_i._

* * *

"En garde!"

Talon sighed in irritation as he awkwardly swung his blade at Fiora again. She parried flawlessly, like all the other times before, and let loose another insult directed at him. Suddenly she went on the offensive, swinging her wooden rapier at Talon with incredible speed. Like the other times before, he failed to block, and was disarmed handily. Fiora had bested him three times in a row now in their "sparring session", though it was much more of a beat down than a fight. She hadn't given Talon his arm blade or any of his usual weapons and instead forced him to choose a weapon from her extensive arsenal. Though Talon did admire blades, he found that all of hers just felt _wrong _in his hands. They were too heavy, or too light, or too bulky. He couldn't find one that even compared to his trusty arm blade and settled on a silver sword that had much more weight to it than his liking. The armor she had made him wear was exceptional at making her attacks less painful, but overall only weighed him down and made him slower; he fought without armor his whole life, now it was only a hindrance. Not to mention his blasted lung was making it exceptionally hard to breathe, and tired him out quite quickly. All in all, he was at a severe disadvantage in about every area possible.

Fiora seemed to be enjoying it all the more.

She prompted him to pick his weapon up and he begrudgingly did. His usual scowl seemed to be twice as large today and his eyes remained squinted in pure annoyance.

"Remind me why I'm doing this again?" He took a stance with both feet planted firmly in the ground about shoulder width apart and held his blade eye level.

"Because you are my prisoner." Fiora readied her wooden (and painful) rapier and after taking a short breath, narrowed her eyes at Talon.

"En garde!"

She came at him again, and again he failed to block her first barrage of swings. The maple wood that her rapier was made of hurt like a bitch and left red, angry bruises across his body, but it did not tear the flesh. He jumped back to reset the fight and took another stance. Apparently, being struck by the other person's weapon did not result in defeat in this horrid game she called "fencing". Fiora explained that the only way to win in fencing was to disarm your opponent or force them to the ground. Body shots meant nothing. This was perplexing to Talon. He thought that striking someone with your blade in fatal areas would lead to an obvious victory. Apparently not. All it led to was him getting pounded more and more. He already had many marks ranging from his face to his abdomen from Fiora's damned stick, and surely there were many more to come.

It made it all the more embarrassing that he was armed with a blade sharp enough to kill and she was armed with what was essentially a sanded down tree branch.

Talon gripped his sword tightly and charged her. His discomfort was obvious but he ignored it; he would strike her at least once. How could he even call himself an assassin if he could not? She merely smiled at him and blocked his strikes with ease. She began her counterattack and and began lashing her stick against his skin.

_SMACK!_

_SMACK!_

_SMACK!_

Talon was nearly disarmed during her merciless onslaught but maintained control over his weapon, albeit barely. His face contorted into an angry sneer and he switched his sword from two handed to one handed . His right hand, now free, curled into a fist. Fiora came again, and once again began her barrage upon him. This time, however, Talon had been ready. He may not be able to hit her with his sword, but in real combat the sword wasn't the only weapon at his disposal.

Fiora clashed her rapier against his sword and because of such left her body exposed. Talon brought his right hand up and punched her in the chest. Hard. She fell to her knees and gasped for air. Her breathing was strained as she struggled to find oxygen. He had done it many times, knocking the wind out of someone. It was a move he always kept in the back of his mind if the situation ever called for it. He looked down at her with a mix of irritation and regret. He only now realized how dirty his move had been. In fencing, your only weapon was your blade. He broke the rules quite clearly. He expected her to be angry with him when she regained her breath and raised her head, but was surprised to find her with a smile on her face.

"So, you do have some fight in you after all." Fiora gestured to the kitchen, which was just outside the courtyard they had been sparing in. Talon followed her there.

"When you piss me off enough, sure." He took his armor off and tossed the sword in the earth just before entering the kitchen.

"Would you care for some water, perhaps refreshments?" Fiora asked, pouring herself a glass.

Talon shook his head. "You got a shower around here? I could really use one."

The Duelist nodded and led him throughout the house until they came upon a bathroom fit with a large tiled shower. Upon seeing said shower, Talon began disrobing starting with his black shirt, courtesy of Fiora. Fiora stood in the doorway, silently observing Talon and his body. Though only his shirt was off, Fiora could see exactly why Noxus held him in such high regard. His chest was littered with scars, old and new, that lay on top of the sinewed shape of his chest and abdominals. Every muscle, every _single _muscle, was that of perfection. He appeared to have not an ounce of body fat, or at least none she could find with her prying eyes. It was the body of a hardened man; one who had seen his share of pain and bloodshed. Talon was quick to notice Fiora's gaze before removing his trousers.

"Something bothering you?" He had just the slightest bit of malice in his voice.

Fiora let her eyes feast on his body for just a moment longer. "No, no." She began scooting out of the door. "I'll be waiting in my bedroom. Come see me when you are done."

Talon shrugged off her odd tone and fully disrobed himself. He had to admit: The shower was beyond amazing. Living in the slums, a shower wasn't something he had a choice to experience. It seemed neither necessary nor practical. After joining the Crimson Elite, he found them to be quite enjoyable. The hot water cleansed the filth from his body, much like he cleansed the grime that was the slums from his life. Since moving to Demacia, he hadn't a chance to take a proper shower as well, so this one in particular was quite refreshing.

Done with his washing, Talon took a few moments to dry off before dressing himself and finding his way to Fiora's bedroom. He knocked three times on the door, and after a short moment heard Fiora call out from the other side.

"Come in."

Talon entered the bedroom and to his surprise found Fiora sprawled seductively across her bed with nothing on but a less than modest bathrobe. She motioned for him to sit on the bed with her. He hesitantly agreed and seated himself on the edge of the bed.

"So, is Talon your real name?" She asked.

He seemed nervous, or as nervous as The Blade's Shadow could appear, which was not very much. "As real of one as I'll ever have."

Fiora smiled. "I read up quite a bit on you, you know?"

Talon rubbed his forehead. "Probably not a good idea."

"I had no idea who you truly were when I faced you. I had only heard the faintest of whispers from soldiers who were terrified of the way you cut down their whole squad like it was nothing. Killed their friends in front of their eyes. But you intrigued me; never had someone been so even against me and come so close to beating me. I learned of your upbringings, or lack thereof. The Blade's Shadow: A man raised in hell incarnate, the slums of Noxus. With no known kin, you stole, murdered, and fought your way through everything in life. You eventually found your way onto the Crimson Elite, Noxus' crew of individuals with a high proficiency for killing. But you left them; abandoned your salvation. Then they hunted you, which led them to Demacia. They failed, but I succeeded, and now we're here." Fiora looked at Talon after her speech of his life, waiting for a response.

Talon's response came several seconds later as he mulled over what she had said. "You're missing one small detail."

"Oh, and what would that be?" She questioned.

"I didn't just leave the Crimson Elite, I damn near killed them all on the way out. They stabbed me in the back, a mistake someone only makes once against me. In a way it was my fault for trusting them in the first place. They got me angry, and when I'm angry I'm not too pleasant to be around."

Fiora smile only widened. "That is exactly why you're here Talon."

"You think that's why I'm a prisoner in Demacia?" Talon scoffed, holding venom in his words.

"No, that's why you're in my bedroom." Fiora corrected, laying a hand on Talon's shoulder. "You are a strong man, stronger than any I've seen. Many men try to court me here, Talon, but I reject all of them. Politicians, war heroes, even princes. Do you know why?"

Talon skin tingled from her soft touch. "No." He said bluntly.

"I do not look for money or war stories in my men. I look for strength, simple as that. I desire someone as strong as me. You see, Talon, I have certain… 'Needs', that only men like you can sate."

Talon got the idea of where she was going, but still seemed skeptical. "We are from different factions. If the Demacians found out you were courting a Noxian you would be hung for treason."

Fiora laughed at his naivete. "Perhaps so. However, I don't intend to marry you."

Talon's raised an eyebrow. "Then what _do _you intend to do?"

The duelist stood up, walked to the center of the room, and stared Talon straight in the eyes. "All I want to do…" She abruptly raised her arms and slipped her robe off, revealing her completely naked body to The Blade's Shadow. "is have a little _fun_."

Talon was generally a confident individual. Hell, he had killed just about everything that had ever gotten in his way in life, why shouldn't he be confident? He was the bane of the Crimson Elite, the slaughterer from the slums, the one who struck fear into the hearts of men, The Blade's Shadow. But, upon seeing such a seductive and beautiful woman standing before him, completely nude, he was reduced to a pile of nervousness and apprehension. It was evident in the way he stammered for words and kept his eyes focused on anything _but _Fiora.

The Duelist grinned sheepishly. She walked towards him, swaying her wide hips. "I take it you don't have much experience in this field of work." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. She could read him like a book.

"I… I've been in a lot situations… But never one like this. When it comes to women I am not very experienced." Talon managed to get, still not making eye contact with the distance closing Fiora.

"Talon." She sat in his lap, her chest mere centimeters from his face. "Relax. If you swing your your cock with the same intensity that you swing your blade, we will have no problems." He could feel the heat of her thighs and bottom against his lap and he grew aroused. Fiora felt his member come to life and begin poking her left thigh. She took his shirt off with ease, revealing his hardened abs and chest. "We'll start with something simple."

Fiora slithered down his body, leaving a trail of kisses across his upper body. She removed his trousers on the way down, and shortly after, his undergarments. Talon's member sprung from its confinement and revealed seven hard inches of manhood to The Grand Duelist.

"My my, Talon. You have a wonderful cock." She spit on his dick and began stroking him slowly. "Make sure not to cum too fast. I wanna make this last." Fiora handjob increased in speed as she used her spit as lubricant and sped her hand up and down his shaft. He groaned and took a handful of her bed sheets in his hands as he focused on not cumming. She kissed the tip of his cock before enveloping it with her mouth, slowly sucking him off. She didn't go deep at first, seemingly content with teasing the young assassin. She stared up at him and met his glare, noticing the lust in his eyes. She went deeper, impressively taken all seven inches into her throat. Talon's jaw fell open from the pleasure but still had yet to cum. She had to admit, he was holding out impressively long. Especially considering she was very good at this. She finished her blowjob and placed his dick between her breasts,. She then began to pump them up and down rapidly, allowing Talon to experience the pleasure of her plump breasts. He still had yet to come, though he seemed to be on the edge as his breathing was becoming ragged and strained. With a devilish grin, she took the tip of his cock in her mouth and began sucking him off while simultaneously giving him a boobjob. After about only twenty seconds, Talon groaned and buckled his hips before releasing his load into Fiora's mouth. She stopped her boobjob and let Talon's dick sit still in her mouth as it twitched and pumped more cum into her, all the while staring lustfully at him. He laid on his back on the bed and took a deep breath. Fiora swallowed his cum and climbed up on the bed with him. She laid atop of him, letting her rear rub against his softening cock.

"Hope you don't think you're done yet." She teased, flicking his nose. "I'm not finished with you."

Talon panted in an attempt to steady his breathing. "I think… _wheeze… _I think I may need a few minutes."

Fiora kissed his neck and whispered in his ear. "You've got thirty seconds."

She put her supple breasts in front of his face and Talon gratefully took a nipple into his mouth. He wasn't exactly sure what felt good to a woman or what didn't, but after some trial and error had found a successful formula. He sucked on her right breast, flicking his tongue up and down on her nipple, and he groped her left breast softly, occasionally pinching her nipple. Fiora's face had the slightest hint of a blush on it and she moaned in pleasure. All the while, Talon's member came back to life, slowly rising and brushing against her ass. Fiora took note and sat back, taking her breasts away from Talon, much to his displeasure.

"Okay Talon, you ready for the real deal?" She smiled down at him.

Talon, still laying on his back, looked up at Fiora who was now seated upon his manhood. He smiled at her, revealing a very rare smile that only a handful of people had ever seen. It was not his usual smile that held contempt and anger behind it. It was one of actualy joy; actual happiness.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Fiora nodded and grabbed his dick with one hand, angling it into her pussy slowly. Just when the head penetrated her, she felt a shot of electricity upon her spine. Slowly, she lowered herself onto it entirely, taking all seven inches of him into her. For a moment they sat there still. Fiora grabbed his hair and leaned in close.

"Now." Her voice was barely a whisper. He felt her hot breath wash over his face. "Show me what a Noxian can do."

Fiora began raising and lowering herself onto Talon's dick, sending wave after wave of pleasure throughout her. Talon grit his teeth, allowing her to dictate the pace. She slammed her rear down on his thighs, making a slapping noise each time. Talon sat up and placed his hands on her supple ass, guiding her down onto his dick. Her eyes glazed over and she released a moan of pleasure as her first orgasm came and she came on Talon's dick, the clear liquid dripping down his shaft. She sat still for a moment and looked back at Talon. He had a look in his eyes that shocked her. It wasn't the look of lust or pleasure; it was the look of an animal. Wordlessly, he grabbed her thighs and lifted her off the bed without taking his member out of her. He turned her around, still maintaining the connection with her and pushed her against a wall. She put her hands on the wall and spread her legs cavity search style. It was Talon's turn to be in control now as he slammed into her mercilessly. She moaned louder than before, basically screaming at this point. He pounded her hard, gripping her right ass cheek with his hand and slapping her left ass cheek with the other. Each thrust brought pure ecstasy to both of them. Talon sped up, pounding her absurdly fast.

Fiora's voice cracked. "Talon… If you keep doing that… _Pant… _I'm gonna-!"

Fiora yelled as her second orgasm came, sending rippling waves of pleasure and euphoria throughout her body. Talon felt himself going over the edge simultaneously and felt the white hot tingling of an orgasm as he came inside her. His thrusting slowed and eventually came to a halt as he removed his twitching, aching member from her. Fiora took a moment to come to her senses before dragging Talon to her bed.

"Tonight, you sleep with me." She whispered into his ear.

Talon had no reason to refuse so willingfully crawled under the covers with her. She lay herself against, ass against member. Talon felt the full extent of his tiredness surface and found sleep only moments later.

**A/N: Fairly happy about this chapter. I don't consider myself an expert at writing lemons (shoulda asked xdisturbed for some advice, he's the lemon god), but I'm satisfied with this one. After reading your reviews, I figured a Fiora/Talon lemon probably wouldn't hurt. Sorry if the lemon isn't up to par with most of the one's on here, like I said I'm kind of a noob at them. Anyways, review please. Can we break 100 ;)?**

**-Ronald del Reagan**


	15. Chapter 15

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion: Beast- Nico Vega**

**Chapter 15: **_**The Demon Within**_

* * *

_i._

"_Don't fear the reaper,_

_because after all, people are the real monsters"_

_-HarryDresdenWizard_

_i._

* * *

**Trigger Warning: If you've made it this far into the story, chances are blood and gore don't have any effect on you. I felt the need to put a disclaimer however, as this chapter gets pretty morbid. I delved into the fucked up part of my mind to craft this. Reader beware.**

* * *

Talon had to admit, this was not a bad life. For several weeks, his activities consisted of training (which he improved uncannily fast at), eating luxurious foods, having his wound treated, sleeping in beds fit for kings, and spending "quality" time with his host, Fiora. He could've stayed forever if he wanted, but no matter how many luxuries were thrown his way, his heart still yearned to escape. Talon still recognized that he was technically a prisoner, and he didn't feel content being somebody else's plaything. It didn't take much thought until he decided he was going to break free, the sooner the better. For days he plotted his escape, memorizing guard patrols, the landscape of the mansion, and the shifts of Fiora's maids and butlers. Fiora granted him a lot of freedom, so it wasn't very difficult to analyze the layout of the land. The tricky part came with dealing with the plethora of Demacian guards that stood at every corner. If even one was alerted, if even one saw him escape, Demacia would lock down the city and issue a manhunt for The Blade's Shadow. If that happened, there would be no way possible to flee the city and make it back.

Back to where exactly?

It was the only piece of the puzzle Talon hadn't figured out. His motherland would fight tooth and nail to see him executed, Demacia would throw him in a maximum security prison if he was caught, and any of other options seemed bleak and hopeless. As the days went on and his escape plan neared its final stages, he decided to figure it out on the fly. One foot in front of the other, he would escape Demacia first, then figure it out from there.

* * *

On a dark and dreary evening, Talon initiated the first step in his plans. Black clouds spread across the sky and covered the moon entirely, making it uncharacteristically dark outside. Rain pounded the ground mercilessly and showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon. The conditions were perfect, now all he had to do was act.

Talon checked the clock in his bedroom.

_9:32 P.M._

He left his room, walking calm and collected through the mansion. Butlers and guards alike saw him, but paid no mind. He was headed in the direction of Fiora's room, and during his stay he had made many trips to her room late at night for obvious reasons. Tonight, however, was not a night for pleasure and pleasantries. He walked to her room for one reason: To reclaim his weapons.

Fiora had inadvertently tipped him off one day about the whereabouts of his weapons. It was after a particularly nasty sparring session. Talon nursed the bruises scattered over his body and Fiora decided that it was a good time to chime in.

"You know, I was looking at your weapons last night just before I went to bed. Quite the sinister arsenal you have. I fear you may actually fare well against me if I were to give them to you."

It seemed innocent enough, and most people would have forgotten about it entirely in an hour, but Talon's brain immediately went to work with the information she had given him. If she were observing his weapons before bed, it meant one of two things. Either they were in the large vault on the east wing of the house, or they were in her bedroom. The thing that made Talon sure they were in her bedroom was that he slept on the east wing, and if she had walked to the vault to observe them, he would have heard her. Plus, what better spot to stash something that needed to be hidden than in your own private quarters? It frustrated when he thought about all the time he spent in Fiora's bedroom. All that time he was so close to his weapons, he could practically taste them, but hadn't the slightest clue.

No matter. Tonight he would take what was his.

He finally stood in front of Fiora's door. The guards that patrolled this hallway would be switching shifts for the next eight minutes, meaning he had eight minutes to find his weapons and incapacitate her.

_**Knock Knock Knock**_

"Come in." A voice gently called out from the other side.

Talon happily obliged, entering the room as naturally as he could.

Fiora seemed surprised to see him. "Talon? I do not recall giving you permission to come to my room tonight." She seemed to be in a rather foul mood.

_Perfect._

"Where are they?" The coldness in his voice and the serious look in his eyes made Fiora uneasy. She was used to his off putting personality and overall lack of emotion, but this was different.

"Where are what, exactly?" She responded, trying to remain calm.

"My weapons."

"And why would I return those to you?"

Talon sighed.

_Guess we're gonna do it the hard way._

He charged forward, aiming a punch in between her eyes. The duelist was fast to react, though, and leapt from the bed, grabbing a rapier on the way out that stood by her nightstand. Talon, still slow from his lung, positioned himself in front of her door. Since she had no windows, it meant the only way out was through him. She smiled haughtily and twisted her rapier in her hand.

"Rebelling, are we?"

Talon's only response was the raising of his fists and taking a stance.

Fiora laughed at him. "You have much to learn, boy. You cannot even beat me when I fight with a stick and you with a blade. What makes you think you'll fare any better now that you're unarmed and I have steel on my side?"

Talon's eyes followed her blade closely. He knew this was not a fight he could win through normal means, but he had a trump card that _may _just work.

"There is no need to block the door like that, Talon." Fiora spoke. "I have no intention of alerting any guards of this. If I did, the council would decide you're too dangerous and take you from me. After I best you, however, expect to be nothing more than a slave. I gave you freedom and you have spit on it. Now, you will truly suffer.

The Duelist lunged at him, swinging her rapier with lightning speed. Talon dodged, narrowly avoiding a slit throat. She swung again and again, missing slightly or clipping him every time, leaving a trail of cuts on his arms and chest. Talon huffed and dropped to a knee, feeling like he would pass out. His bad lung was proving to be his bane as he tired out incredibly fast.

Fiora walked towards him and put her rapier's tip by her feet. "Too bad about that lung of yours, I would've liked to fight you longer."

_A little closer..._

She was only a few feet away now and her blade was still lowered. Talon kept huffing and puffing for air.

_A little closer…_

"Unfortunately Talon, all good things come to an end. But don't worry, I'm not going to kill you. I'm just going to hurt you really bad."

_NOW!_

Talon shot forwards and brought his fist to Fiora's midsection. She had tried to bring her rapier up, but he was too fast. He had put everything into that punch, and the result was Fiora stumbling back, gasping for air and dropping her rapier somewhere in between.

Talon stood in front of her casting a dangerous look her way. She fell to her knees and mouthed the word "how".

He pulled his shirt up about halfway and pointed to his lung wound. Except there was no wound; it looked completely healed.

"The last week it hasn't affected me at all. I've been feeling like my old self. I merely acted as if I were still slow and injured as a fiasco to hope you would do the one thing that would allow me to beat you. Underestimate me."

Talon gripped her by the throat and shoved her against a wall. She could not cry out and instead simply whimpered from the tight grasp around her throat.

"Now." Talon's voice sounded dark and deadly. "Tell. Me. Where. My. Weapons. Are."

She didn't budge. He squeezed harder. A tear fell down her cheek and she pointed underneath her bed. He dropped her on her bottom and searched underneath the bed. He was incredibly relieved to find everything he was looking for: His arm blade, daggers, shurikens, cape, and hood. It was all there. He went over to Fiora again and leaned in close to her body. She tried to crawl away from him but it was no use.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you." Talon cocked a halfway grin. "I'm just gonna hurt you really bad."

He slammed his left fist into her temple with great force and achieved the intended effect. Fiora's body went limp and she fell to the ground, motionless, but breathing. He opted to knock her out instead of killing her.

_And who says I ain't merciful?_

Time was short, so he dressed as quickly as he could. Adorning his cape, hood, and blades felt so _right_. Like he had found a part of himself that had gone missing.

_**Knock Knock**_

Talon's head turned towards the closed door. It seemed his eight minutes were up.

"Miss Fiora, this is Eddipus. I'm checking in." The man's voice was rough.

Seconds passed.

_**Knock Knock Knock**_

"Miss Fiora, are you in there?"

Talon walked up to the door, prepared for the next step in his plan.

Kill everyone.

For days, he tried to find a gap in the mansion's defences. He looked for any possible escape route, any way he could kill a couple guards and get out scot free.

There were no easy ways out.

That meant the only way to ensure no one would find out about his escape would be to leave no witnesses.

As the guards knocking became more frantic he had one last thought.

He hadn't killed anyone in _weeks. _

It felt odd, and not in a good way. He didn't particularly like killing people, but it had become part of his everyday life in the last couple years. It was part of his routine. Not doing it threw him off.

So it was fair to say he very much looked forward to this.

A wolfish grin crossed his face, just for a second, and then he opened the door.

For a second, nay, a split second, Talon did not lunge forward. He merely sat there, looming over the confused guard. In this milliseconds, the guard's face contorted from confusion to fear. Before him stood the man that had become an urban legend of sorts in Demacia. The donor of death, the grim reaper, The Blade's Shadow.

Talon lunged forward, fast as light, and impaled the man through his chest with his arm blade. He released a cry of pain for a moment and toppled to the floor. Talon felt his hot blood splatter upon his hand.

A pair of guards rounded the corner and entered the hallway, concerned with the cry of their fellow guard.

Talon sprinted down the hallway in mere seconds. One guard charged him, the other fled. Talon ducked under the man's shortsword and sliced at his waist. He never broke his sprint and rounded the corner without turning around to witness his latest victim fall into two pieces.

The other guard ran to the kitchen, attempting to open a large wooden door that led to the foyer. The door was heavy however, and took him many seconds to even get it slightly open. The chefs looked at him with confused expressions until a dagger impaled itself in the back of head. He slid down the door slowly leaving a trail of blood upon it. The chefs turned their attention to the source of the dagger. With horrified expressions, they saw The Blade's Shadow standing in the opposite doorway, arm blade coated with fresh blood. He lunged at the nearest chef and cleaved his head off his body. He turned to the next, running his blade through the man's jaw and into his head. He turned halfway around and flung three shurikens. Each hit its mark, leaving three chefs with a shuriken in their forehead. The last chef, a lovely woman, slowly backed towards the door with her arms up. Tears streamed down her face as she stuttered for words.

"P-p-please…"

Talon walked slowly towards her, savoring the look of fear in her eyes. He grabbed her with his free hand by the throat a lifted her in the air. He then began stabbing her repeatedly in the stomach. She screamed bloody murder as her intestines spilled out and onto the white floor. His thrusts were hard. each cutting deeper than the last. Her blood showered onto his boots, coating them in thick red liquid. Her screaming became irritable so Talon slit her throat. Not quickly, either. He slit it slowly, staring directly into her eyes. Talon decided he wasn't done with her yet, though. She could not cry out, and was on the edge of death as blood poured from her neck and stomach. Talon brought her over to a large pot filled to the brim with boiling water. He dunked her in it and held her under. The hot water seared her face and burned off her skin. She thrashed violently for several seconds until she was still. He tossed her carcass on the ground and continued throughout the house, searching for anything with a pulse. He tore apart butlers, maids, and guards alike. It mattered not who they were. No witnesses could remain.

The house was an easy task. The only entrance to the whole place was a large pair of wooden double doors in the foyer. For some reason Fiora had no windows installed. He pushed a large bookcase in front of the doors after dealing with the kitchen to make sure no one inside could get outside. A vicious murder spree ensued.

* * *

Talon rubbed his hands together as he strode to the double doors. No one inside was alive, save for Fiora. He had made sure of that by cutting down everything that breathed.

He pushed the bookcase over and walked outside. He had counted eighteen guards when he wandered the grounds outside before with Fiora. That meant if he could kill eighteen more people he was free.

_Easy._

Rain pounded him, washing most of the blood off that he had accrued with his antics inside. The rain provided good cover since it made visibility very low. Paired with the fact that it was unnaturally dark tonight made Talon practically invisible.

The guards were stationed in groups of three across the grounds. He approached the first three that stood around sixty feet from the entrance to the mansion, moving silently through the rain. Their backs were turned to him and they were completely oblivious of what had happened inside. He dispatched of them quickly, running his arm blade through the one on the left on his side and pushing it through his body entirely. His arm blade literally tore the man in half and he continued with the motion, tearing the second and third man in half as well.

He soon after found the next group of guards and hit them with three shurikens into the heart. They toppled over like blocks and crumpled onto the ground.

A group of guards near them saw and ran at him, weapons aimed at his heart. The Blade's Shadow dodged under their strikes and removed their heads from their bodies.

He pressed forward, killing two more groups of guards with ease.

The final group stood at the gate that sat at the end of a long pavement road that led to the mansion. Once they were gone, he figured he had about seven hours before Fiora woke up and alerted the Demacian Council. That was more than enough time to flee the city.

Talon grinned and walked under a street light just in front of the guards, illuminating himself to their squinting eyes.

"What in the fuck are you doin' here?!" One of the guards exclaimed

"That's… That's him! That's the Blade's Shadow!" The fear in his comrade's voice was evident from the way it quivered.

"Cam down, Ezekiel." The third man assured his friend. "There's three of us, I only count one of him."

The first guard raised his weapon at Talon, who was only thirty feet away. "The fuck are you standing around for?! Come and meet yer' end!"

Talon unstrapped his arm blade and lobbed it forward. It landed harmlessly on the ground in front of the guards. The Blade's Shadow walked forward, hands curled into fists. The streetlight overhead illuminated him, but the shadow his cowl cast was unmistakable

He charged the guards silently. They raised their weapons and charged at him as well. He jumped high, dodging a low swing from one of their spears. He leaned back, evading a sword thrust. He ducked, missing a strike from an axe. He brought his hands up to one of the guards necks and turned viciously, breaking the man's vertebrae. He fell to the ground lifeless.

"That bastard killed Florence!" In his rage, one of the two remaining guards charged Talon without his comrade to back him up.

It was a mistake he wouldn't live to regret.

Talon grabbed the man's spear and broke it into with brute force. He then took his index and middle finger on his right hand and gouged the man's eyes out of his head. He toppled to his knees, screaming as he eyes swung loosely under his sockets, still connected by their arteries. The Blade's Shadow pushed the man to the ground and raise his boot above his head. He brought it down hard, squishing the man head into nothing but a bloody mess. His brain matter scattered on the pavement.

The last man was petrified with fear. That didn't slow down Talon. He pushed the man to the ground and began punching him in his chest as hard as he could. Talon felt the man's ribs breaking with every punch. He cried out several times, begging for mercy. Talon gave him none.

He punching until he softened the man's chest up enough to punch directly _into _his chest cavity. He moved his hand around inside the poor bastards chest until he found his heart. He grabbed it with his hand, and for a moment, he stood still feeling the man's heart beat in his hand. He squeezed hard, crushing his heart and practically making it _explode._

Talon restrapped his arm blade and took a moment to appreciate his work. He stared at the mansion in the distance. It looked as calm and normal as ever. No one walking by the gate would ever suspect everybody inside to be dead.

The Blade's Shadow leapt over the gate and sprinted into the night, the rain acting as a shroud to conceal himself. He sank away into the darkness.

* * *

**A/N: An update only a couple days after the last?! What is going on?! To be honest, I wrote this all up in one night. I know the last few fight scenes are pretty sloppy, but I'm way too tired and lazy to fix them right now. Hope you enjoyed the excessive amount of gore and blood, because I sure did. Reviewerino please.**

**Also, I know I suck at lemons, you guys don't have to be dicks about it. I don't mind constructive criticism at all, as long as it's **_**constructive. **_**One of your reviews on the last chapter pissed me off so much it inspired me to write this. I would normally shrug it off because I have relatively thick skin, but for some reason it just **_**really **_**rubbed me the wrong way. I **_**even **_**fucking said in the A/N that I suck at lemons, so don't be too harsh. **

**So to that person I say: Fuck you. You don't like my writing? Don't fucking read it.**

**Sorry, I needed to get that out. The rest of you are great and always leave me nice or constructive reviews that make my day better when I read them. I love you guys and gals. Have a good day.**

**-Ronald del Reagan**


	16. Chapter 16

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion: Bad Company- Five Finger Death Punch**

**Chapter 16: **_**Who We Are**_

* * *

_i._

"_Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls;_

_the most massive characters are seared with scars"_

_-Khalil Gibran_

_i._

* * *

Talon sprinted like he never had before. He was _so _close. Over the past few hours he had made his way slyly through the city. Avoiding guards, slipping through alleyways , traversing rooftops, the whole nine yards. If he were to be recognized by _anyone_, the consequences could be massive. Now, he had finally made it to one of the many underground passages that were sprawled all over the massive city-state. So he let loose of the constant anxiety gripping his stomach and ran. The exit was so close! All he had to do was get to the other side and he would be free.

_Free._

The word itself was perplexing to him. Was anyone ever truly free? Sure, politicians and emperors alike would preach of freedom to their subjects, but their true plans hid behind thick curtains of intricate and complex lies. To be forced to adhere to a city's demands and laws, as absurd as they were, wasn't freedom; it was tyranny. He especially had learned at a young age that freedom was something the likes of him could not afford. As long as he lived, someone, somewhere, would want him as a pawn in their game . He would always be hunted, until the day someone better than him found him. Then he would die and not a soul would know or care. Is that really what he wanted?

The inner machinations of his mind ceased as he came upon the exit and grazed at the large grassy plains that surrounded the outside of Demacia. He had never thought about what to do when he got to this phase of his plan. The Blade's Shadow continued his sprint until he was at least a few miles away from the behemoth of a city.

_Can't be too careful._

He took shelter under a nearby tree and laid down. He would call it a night here. As his eyes closed and he positioned himself comfortably, he noted how tired he truly was. It had been a long day and longer night. He had slaughtered almost a hundred people today. Killing people really tuckered him out.

His mind raced despite his need of sleep.

_Where to now? Noxus? Piltover? Zaun?_

None of them sounded even remotely good.

_Ionia?_

That was actually an option. He may have to change his style a bit and try to be less sloppy with his killings, but the more he thought about it the better it sounded.

He could survive in Ionia. Hell, after some time he could even _thrive _there. He had heard whispers of some shadow ninja overthrowing the main protection force.

_What were they called again? Kinlou? Finkou? Ah, fuck it._

With its best task force weakened and a shadow ninja on a trigger happy killing spree, the government in Ionia surely would have its hands full. Hopefully they wouldn't have the time to notice a few peculiar disappearances every few weeks.

_I could move from town to town, killing only a few as a go to get by._

By the time the hands of sleep tugged at him, Talon had decided.

_I leave for Ionia in the morning._

* * *

The High Command of Noxus sat at their round table, secured away in one of the many underground facilities in the city. The atmosphere around the eight generals was gravely serious.

"Nikolai, you're sure that we can effectively cut off their trade routes with Demacia? The entire plan would fall into shambles if they managed to get Demacia's reinforcements." One of the generals questioned.

"I am positive. My navy is the best in the world, ain't no Demacians gonna put us down, least not without a fight."

Another general chimed in. "Toonya, how have diplomacies with Zaun gone?"

The voluptuous woman grinned before responding. "Good. They will back us and give us many chemical weapons that we can mobilize soon after the invasion."

Swain glanced at the leader of the group. "Well General Darkwill? What is your order?"

Darkwill rubbed his eyes. He seemed tired, frustrated, and pissed off. The excruciating amount of planning that had gone into this large scale operation was almost to the point of absurdity.

Darkwill released a decrepit groan before speaking. "Inform your commanders, mobilize the troops, and get Zaun to start mass producing those chemical weapons. War brews in Noxus." He spoke little, but the weight in his words was immense. "In just a few months, Ionia will be ours. We shall destroy and conquer; we are Noxians, it is what we do best.

* * *

Noxus seemed to be quite literally _built _for war. During its very few times of peace its economy dropped vastly. Weapons stopped production, job rates dropped, and peaceful political issues were not Noxian politicians strong suit, often resulting with them on the bad side of a trade.

But in times of war, the city seemed to be _alive_. A thinking, sentient, singular entity. Its refineries boomed with activity and released black smoke into the atmosphere, its warehouses churned out weapons endlessly, and its soldiers organized together to prepare for the ensuing bloodshed. The thick cloud of smog above the city served as a warning to the whole world: War is coming.

Riven found herself in the middle of it all. She and the other Crimson Elite were gathered in _The Red Birthright_, Noxus' highest reaching skyscraper that threatened to break through the sky and grasp at god. It was the citadel of the city with an affinity for war and the main base of operations for Noxus' most prestigious military tacticians. During Talon's absence, The Crimson Elite had changed vastly. Now, twenty three members wore the red and black combat suits and carried the title of Noxus' finest. She had to admit that her fellow comrades were skilled, each in their own different way. They were an elite task force capable of completing nearly any mission within reason.

Yet she still felt like they were missing something.

_Or someone._

Initially, Talon's betrayal had no effect on her. Her anger and rage clouded her mind and filled her with a burning desire to bring him to justice. She had voraciously tried to capture him in Demacia but still failed. He was used to running from people, she should've realized he was in his element. As time went on, however, and she had heard no news of his condition, her anger and rage rapidly turned to sadness and regret. With an even mind she looked back and realized his reasons for leaving were justified. Swain had essentially ordered for him to be beaten to a bloody pulp. Had The Tactician done the same to her, she would've left in a heartbeat, honor be damned. Talon had even gotten back up to fight on her behalf. If she wouldn't have gotten knocked down in the first place he never would have gone to the extremes he did.

What hurt the most to think about was what happened after. She took his good intentions and spat on them by challenging him to a fight. In truth, she knew she could not win. He was too sharp, too hardened to be beaten by the likes of her. Headstrong as she was she fought anyway. And he showed her mercy, something she knew not he was capable of. She was exhausted and it was obvious. Had he fought just a little longer she would've fell easily. It was a truth they both knew.

But instead he left.

What Riven really wanted to do was make things right. She knew the chances of him ever enlisting with The Crimson Elite were nonexistent at this point and that what had happened could not be undone. Regardless, she wanted to find him again, if he was even still alive, and try to offer whatever apology she could, meaningless as it may be.

* * *

Swain walked into the room sporting the same limp he always had. The Crimson Elite sat patiently in their chairs, faces showing a variety of different emotions. Some looked eager for war, others looked nervous, but most seemed indifferent.

The Master Tactician cleared his throat, politely demanding everyone's undivided attention. "I presume you all know that war is coming. Noxus is lucky to have the Crimson Elite because you will be instrumental in our overwhelming victory. In two weeks time, warships will leave our harbor carrying tens of thousands of troops to the island continent known as Ionia. While they take on the tall order of manning the front lines, the Crimson Elite will be dispatched into small teams to infiltrate key locations and eliminate VIP targets." The general assigned the teams and showed sketches of their targets. He instructed them to memorize everything about his blueprints as possible since even the slightest detail could save your life.

The rest of the meeting was a blur to Riven. She wanted to pay attention to her general, but constantly found her mind drifting to the idea of invading Ionia. She didn't feel particularly upset about it; whatever could further the development of Noxus was what she wanted. This certainly seemed like a step forward. However, she was slightly skeptical. Somewhere in the back of her mind she felt that invading a peaceful island continent could not end well.

* * *

**Days later…**

The air in Bilgewater was foul. It reeked of whiskey and death. Its inhabitants weren't much better. The island city was a haven for thugs and criminals, most of which were involved in some sort of underground piracy network. Its streets were dangerous; one may never know when he could be snuck up on and have his throat slit for the gold in his pocket.

But compared to the slums of Noxus this was _nothing._

Talon strutted down the worn pavement with a single objective: Find someone that could get him to Ionia. Bilgewater was home to the most elite criminal seamen in the world; if anyone could get him through Guardian's sea, they were here.

The trek to Bilgewater was fast but grueling. The Blade's Shadow had ridden on horseback almost as soon as he escaped Demacia. A poor fellow rode by him a few miles from Demacia. It turned out to be the last mistake he would ever make. For the better part of two days he rode a black stallion, eventually nicknaming it Mortimer. Once he arrived in Bandle City, he had to barter for a ship to Bilgewater. The yordles drove hard bargains, much to his irritation, and only lowered the price to meet his demands when he flashed his blades at them.

Now low on gold, the assassin entered a nearby pub to have a drink and see if he could find anyone that was willing to bring him on his voyage. His gold had just about run out, so he may have to be _persuasive._

The heavy musk of sweat and alcohol hit Talon in the face like a bag of bricks. He moved towards the counter regardless, observing the downtrodden condition of the bar. The wooden walls were hole ridden, most likely from missed punches during a bar fight. The tables had a thin layer of dried beer staining them. The lights overhead flickered occasionally from faulty wiring.

All in all, it was a heap of shit.

Talon sat himself at the bar and tossed his last few coins the bartenders way.

"Give me something strong."

No response came from the large sweaty brute manning the bar. Instead of talking he poured Talon a glass of something dark and murky. Talon gazed at it for but a moment.

"What is it?" He questioned. "Jack Crownguard?"

The bartender chuckled. "It ain't none of that weak shit. We call it Death's Stepson round here." He corrected.

Talon took the glass precariously from the counter and engaged in his first sip. From the moment the alcohol passed his lips it burned his mouth immensely. After swallowing the thick liquid, he discovered the aftertaste wasn't much better. It damn near eviscerated his throat and left a bitter flavor in his mouth. He put down the glass and released a whiskey tasting belch, discerning the gross liquid once again. The grimace on Talon's face was long and the bartender chuckled at him.

"Yer' not from around here. Most foreigners don't take a liking to Death's Stepson. By yer' expression I can guess that you hate it." The bartender had a cocky smile upon his face.

"Hate it?" Talon took another drink from the glass. "I love it."

The bartender was surprised by the man's boldness and tolerance, but soon scurried away to deal with other patrons. Talon returned to his own business, absentmindedly stirring his drink with the tip of his index finger and taking the occasional drink. He heard a ruckus to his left but paid it no mind. A couple of fellows seemed to be having a heated discussion which soon turned into a fight between the two. It wasn't a big deal to Talon, though, since bar fights seemed relatively common in this place. He had no intention to get involved.

Until it came to him.

One of them stumbled backwards right into Talon, effectively spilling his drink. The men carried on with their fight, paying the assassin no mind. Talon, however, calmly stood from his seat and walked to the two gentleman currently engaged in a fight. He tapped the one nearest to him on the shoulder.

"Whatdya want-" Talon's right fist slammed into the man's cheekbone before he finished his sentence. He collapsed onto the ground in a mess of limbs.

"Oy fuckface! I was fightin' him, no need to get involved! Now I'm gonna kick yer' ass!" The other man was fuming as spittle flew from his tooth-missing mouth. He ran at Talon, yelling profanities The Blade's Shadow knew not even existed. Talon ducked under his punches and elbowed the man in the ribs. He stumbled backwards and Talon leapt forward, bringing his right leg up to the man's chin. The man's body flipped over and he fell flat on his face. Talon's gaze lingered him for awhile, but after he seemed to not be getting back up, he returned to his place at the bar counter.

After a few moments the bar got uncharacteristically quiet. The only noise discernable was a heavy pair of boots hitting the ground one after the other. The patrons of the bar looked down with fear as a lone man made his way to the bar. Talon heard the footsteps approaching and gripped a hidden blade under his sleeve tightly. Once the footsteps stopped he felt a strong presence right behind him laced with violence and killing intent. Talon was about to make the first move, until the man called out to him.

"Turn around, boy." His voice was gruff and salty, like a true man of the sea. Talon slowly stood from his bar stool and faced the newcomer. He had been as Talon predicted: An obvious man of the sea. His white beard was scraggly and unkempt, his black hat signified he was a captain of sorts, and his wooden hand rested on the edge of his holstered pistol.

"Let me see yer' eyes, boy." The pirate requested.

"What?" Talon questioned.

"Take that hood off and let me see dem' eyes, now!"

The Blade's Shadow reluctantly agreed and removed his hood, bringing his eyes up to meet the pirate's. The pirate's eyes shone with an intensity that rivaled Talon's. Dark red irises met amber ones and for a few moments, they stared at each other. Talon's face was placid, but the pirate seemed to be analyzing him. His scrutinizing eyes made Talon uncomfortable.

_Was this normal around here or something?_

The pirate chuckled, breaking the stare, and sat himself in the bar seat next to Talon.

"Yer' an interesting one, alright." The pirate said.

Talon narrowed his eyes. "Explain." he demanded.

"I have a gift, boy." The pirate responded, taking a drink from an anxious bartender. "See, I can tell all about a person jus' from their eyes."

"Oh yeah?" Talon skeptically said. "Whaddya' know about me?"

The pirate frowned. "Yer' a dark one, aye. Ya seem Noxian, least that's what all the blades yer' carrying tells me. Gotta a load of blood on yer' hands, eh boy?"

"Impressive." Talon mumbled.

"Spose' I ought to get this over with." The pirate muttered. He stood up and walked a few paces away from Talon before turning to face him. Talon shifted his body and turned around to meet face him.

The pirate took his hat off and bowed. "The name's Gangplank. I'm the pirate king of this fine city. Ain't nobody worth a damn round here ain't working for me. See boy, round here, we got certain rules. I know you're a foreigner and you may not know 'em, but I gotta hold 'em up, else I look like I can't lead. That bastard ye laid to the floor over there," Gangplank nodded at the knocked out man on the ground. "He's one of my lieutenants. And one of my biggest rules is to not lay a hand on me crew." The Saltwater Scourge rubbed the back of his head. "Now, seeing that ye broke that rule, you gotta own up for it and face yer' punishment."

Talon rolled his eyes. "So what's this punishment of mine?"

Gangplank offered a wicked smile and unsheathed his blade. "Since ye messed with me crew, ya gotta face the captain."

"And if I win?" Talon pondered aloud.

Gangplank chuckled. "Well boy, if ye win I'll grant ye any wish ye want."

Talon had only one wish. A ship to Ionia.

With an almost inconceivable grin, The Blade's Shadow stood from his barstool and took his arm blade from the back of his cape. He strapped it on slowly, analyzing Gangplank with hidden eyes under his hood. The pirate's right arm was wooden, which could prove to be a hindrance. He would use that to his advantage.

Talon and Gangplank stood ten paces apart, with the most of the bar cleared of people afraid to be caught up in their firefight.

"So, when do we start?" Talon broke the silence.

"Now boy!" The pirate uttered and charged him. Talon dodged his first few strikes easily. The pirate king swung hard, not fast. So long as he could evade his poisoned blade he would be fine. Talon took the initiative and brought his blade up to Gangplank's midsection only to have it blocked. His steel clashed against Gangplanks and they struggled for leverage against each other. Talon slowly lost ground; Gangplank was stronger than him. Talon retreated back a few steps before charging the pirate. Unexpectedly, the pirate pulled his pistol from its holster and aimed a shot at Talon. His eyes widened for only a moment before he converted his sprint into a slide in an effort to dodge the incoming gunshot. The pistol muzzle flashed a brilliant shade of red and a loud bang echoed throughout the bar. The small metal pellets whizzed past Talon's head, narrowly missing him. Gunpowder filled the air as Gangplank swung down at Talon who was still mid slide. He brought his arm blade up to block but from the sheer force of Gangplanks thrust he lost his blade as the straps on his arm broke and it careened off to the side.

Talon regained his footing quickly and pounced away from Gangplank. The pirate noticed he lost his blade and smiled before dropping his own to the ground.

"I'm a fair man, boy." He and Talon alike raised their fists and charged each other. Talon drew first blood by landing a quick jab to the pirate's jaw. He followed by a flurry of punches to Gangplank's midsection. The pirate responded with a heavy left hook to Talon's face, causing the assassin to flip over and land his back. Grunting, Talon drug himself to his feet. Just as he regained his footing, The Saltwater Scourge hit him with two more heavy punches, one on the jaw and one on his left cheek. Talon realed back and saw only darkness. For a moment feared he lost his consciousness. Reality returned soon, though, and hit him like a ton of bricks. The pain emanating from his face was great, but he chose to ignore it. Growling, Talon approached Gangplank again. This time he made _sure _to dodge the pirate's swings. If connected even one more punch it could be lights out for Talon. Talon waited for an error in Gangplanks's defense, and soon enough one came. He swung his wooden arm a bit too hard; the weight of the arm caused him to stumble forward a few steps. Talon took advantage by kneeing him in the gut and elbowing him in the back of the head simultaneously. The pirate groaned in response. Not wanting to let up the pressure, Talon began punching him in the jaw repeatedly. His arms looked like pistons as one after the other they collided with The Saltwater Scourge's face. With one last uppercut the pirate was broken and toppled over. Talon put his hands on his knees.

"Are we," _Wheez _"Done yet?" The assassin panted.

Gangplank chuckled and put a hand to his bleeding face covered in lacerations. "Aye boy, we are. You fight good, ever thinking about joining me navy? I'd make ye one of my generals."

Talon smiled and sat in one of the chairs at a table, softly rubbing at one of the many bruises on his cheeks. "Perhaps another time. Now about that agreement…"

"Aye, anything ye want boy."

"How about a ride to Ionia?"

Gangplank laughed. "That all ye want? Consider it done."

* * *

**A/N: This chapter seemed boring and I'm sorry about that. Its just one of **_**those **_**chapters, ya know? In order to get to all the juicy action and romance I have to have some chapters like this that build rising action. Regardless, I'm still happy about how it turned out. Sry for any spelling errors.**

**Also, if you like Talon stories, go read BlackHandCat's. They are 10/10.**

**You know the usual. Leave me some suggestions to get this stupid writer's block over with.**

**Peace.**

**-Bill Cosby (kappa)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion: m.A.A.d City- Kendrick Lamar**

**Chapter 17: **_**Drawn Blade**_

* * *

_i._

"_Know thy self, know thy enemy._

_A thousand battles, a thousand victories."_

_-Sun Tzu_

_i._

* * *

Talon's hawk-like eyes scanned below, looking for any sort of movement whatsoever. He was crouched stoically on the high reaching branch of a cedar tree, arm-blade ready to end a life at the slightest disturbance. How long had he been in that exact position? Hours? Days? To him it mattered little. What mattered was getting his target.

The constant snowfall caked over his body creating a sheet of cover. He was practically invisible. He slowed his breathing and listened. Birds chirped in the distance, the wind ruffled leaves off in the west, and… There! He heard footfalls somewhere north of him. They were headed in his direction. Now it would only be a matter of minutes.

* * *

"Oy, Finn!" The armor clad man said in a hushed whisper. "Would you stop walking so loudly?"

"Piss off, Geralt. I'll walk however I choose to." Finn responded in a low tone.

"You've heard the rumors about the three Crimson Elite mysteriously dying in the last couple of days. That doesn't just happen by accident."

"So what do you think is going on, huh? Some sort of boogeyman?" Finn jested.

"No, I think it's something much worse. If someone is hunting Crimson Elite, then we have a real problem." Geralt countered.

"Bah, how can you even call yourself a part of the Crimson Elite? To be scared from a few of our comrades' deaths is pathetic."

"Lower your voice!" Geralt insisted as quietly as possible. "We don't know who, or what, is out there."

"If you're so worried why don't you just go back? I'll finish the job."

"Fuck off, Finn. I'm serious. One or two Crimson Elite dying over the period of a month or so is understandable, but three? All in the same location? Within a matter of days? It can't be a coincidence."

"What are you thinking? Know the killer?" Finn pondered.

"I've had my theories, but only one really makes sense."

"Hit me with it."

"Well… Do you think it's… him?"

"You mean one of the originals? The deserter?"

"Yeah… I'm talking about The Blade's Shad-" Geralt was cut off by the force of a man crashing down atop of him. Within a matter of seconds the man's arm-blade punctured Geralt's throat and switched targets to his comrade, Finn.

Finn backed away, blocking Talon's heavy swings with his axe. The Blade's Shadow pressed forward, cornering Finn against a tree. He caught his arm-blade in the axe and wrenched it free. Finn reached for a dagger but Talon pierced him in his side before he could draw it. The current Crimson Elite member fell to his knees as the snow beneath him turned a dark shade of red. The former Crimson Elite member circled him with a sinister look in his eyes.

"So, it is you, huh?" Finn asked, but elicited no response from Talon. "They said you were dead."

"And who says I ain't?" Talon whispered.

"You killed those Crimson Elite in Topek?"

Talon curtly nodded.

"Why?" Finn asked, spitting out a glob of blood.

"The same reason I'm going to kill you."

Finn barely even had time to see a flash of silver before his head fell from his body.

* * *

19 weeks. It had been 19 weeks since Talon's boots touched Ionian soil. The first month had been easy for him. Ionia was a vast island and he only had to kill or mug a few people a week to get by. One day, though, the warships came. Large red and grey containers made of steel and iron with cannons as large as small buildings. Talon remembered the panic from Ionia. Fleets of soldiers were ushered to the shore in preparation for the ensuing Noxian invasion. The towns and villages near the shore had it the worst, though. Some villagers fled, some stayed; It mattered not. The Ionians were expecting the warships to fire upon the soldiers manning the beach, and due to such had directed all anti-missile machinery to cover the beaches. When those large, cylindrical cannons fired, though, they did not hit the beach. Instead, they showered death and destruction over the nearby villages, slaughtering the innocent. Plumes of smoke and smoldering ashes were all that remained of the kind townspeople.

With the Ionian beachhead demoralized, the Noxian warships opened their bellies to reveal battalions of troops ready to carry out their one true objective: To kill.

Talon watched it all unfold from afar, sticking to the forests just off the beach. This was not his fight. He was Noxian by blood and always would be, but he could never again ally himself with that type of Noxus. It was weak and undisciplined, and turned its back on its own. So he opted to be a spectator to the massive bloodshed, not a participant.

And there was bloodshed, indeed. Though demoralized, the Ionian soldiers fought hard. They were fighting for their home after all. The Noxian hordes kept coming, however, and the two sides had found themselves locked into a bloody stalemate. Noxus could not muster enough troops to breach the Ionian line of defense by force of will, nor could Ionia find the strength to push the Noxian force back to sea.

Finally, after around 11 weeks of constant back and forth battle, the Noxians had gained enough ground to send out their tactical teams to carry on with what Talon imagined had to be phase 2 of the plan: Send highly proficient killers to assassinate valuable Ionian targets such as Elders or Generals.

That's when he first saw them.

The red and black uniforms, the advanced gear and new tech; there was no mistaking the Crimson Elite. They split into small teams and embarked in different directions. Talon wanted to chase them right there; he wanted to put a blade in their spines at that moment. He also knew that if he acted too fast the others would be tipped off that he was there.

So he would bide his time.

And bide his time he did. The days felt like weeks, and the weeks felt like years, but he remained patient.

_If I can just get to her… If I can just kill her… It will all be worth it._

Finally he made a move on them. His tracking skills were bar none, so finding some wasn't really difficult, especially considering they had grown much larger in number than when he was there. The first three had been in Topek, a small two-bit town inland. They were easy; a warm up to him, really.

The next two were a bit more difficult. He got a tip at a tavern that a couple of Noxians were seen near Seo Del, but that town was surrounded by country and it was mid winter. Tracking them would be impossible with the snow covering their tracks. He finally decided on baiting a trap. Perched high in a tree, he waited, and waited, and waited, until finally, just before he thought he may freeze to death, they stumbled right into his lap.

Now, he treked one of the several bars in the mainland. His features, once the very definition of Noxian, had blended with the culture here. His hair had grown longer and more unkempt, he lost his hood and replaced it with a red bandana that reached his over the tip of his nose, and he replaced his Noxian clothing with Ionian styled armor. His accent was what took him the longest to perfect, and it could still use some work, but it was good enough to be believable. It was a similar situation with what had happened in Demacia months ago. He walked like one of them, talked like one of them, but on the inside, would never really be one of them.

The townsfolk were nice people. Unlike Demacians, their kindness was genuine. They weren't trying to lead perfect lives or crawl higher on the social ladder, no, they were just trying to make life easier for their neighbor. It seemed so foreign to Talon, encountering nice, welcoming people. In Demacia, the kindness was fake, simple as that. No one really meant anything they said. In Noxus, kindness didn't exist. It was kill or be killed. Talon had been all over the world, faced the most overwhelming obstacles, fought with the best killers known to man, and nothing even held a candle to how dangerous the slums of Noxus were.

It was a shame Noxus was invading here. He quite liked this place.

The trek to the mainland was fast but brutal. He stole a horse a few weeks after arriving and they had been together ever since. He took the liberty of naming it 'Kiwi'. They rode hard, painfully so, and the bitter cold didn't help much. He saw legions of Ionian troops headed the way he had came, presumably marching to the beachhead to join the fight. Poor bastards.

Hours later, Talon finally got into the mainland and made his way to one of the largest cities in all of Ionia: Yokatta.

It had large walls but also many open entrances. Ionians weren't the type to deny friends entry. The city was bustling with life; the shops and bars were reeled in a heavy crowd. Talon always came to this city when he needed to find information. Everything passed through here, and if you knew the right people, you might just be able to find it.

Talon tied Kiwi to one of the many horse racks and entered _The Brazen Oak_, a favorite tavern of his to find information.

And to get drunk at, as well.

The Blade's Shadow found a seat at the bar and flagged the bartender down.

"Hey, Tek." He called.

"Ah, Daku, you're back in town." The bartender, Tek, called Talon by the fake name he had given him the first time they met. Talon had talked with him a lot in the past for information. He supposed they were somewhat friendly, though he didn't really consider himself to have friends.

"What can I get you?" Tek asked.

"Usual." Talon responded.

Tek began expertly mixing a few liquids together. After a few moments, he slid a dark drink across the bar. Talon caught it and took a large sip, swishing the bitter liquor around in his mouth before swallowing. A sigh escaped his lips shortly thereafter.

"Good as always, Tek."

"Thanks. I assume you're not just here for the drinks, though."

"Right to the chase, huh?" Talon tapped the tip of his glass. "Truth is, I've heard of some Noxians in these parts. Any ideas where I can find them?"

Tek raised an eyebrow. "Why are you looking for Noxians?"

Talon's teeth grinded together for a moment. "I've got a score to settle."

Tek looked both ways, then beckoned Talon to lean in. He got closer to the bartender.

"I've heard whisperings." Tek said quietly in his ear. "An important Noxian soldier was _allegedly _sighted a week ago, but the officials are keeping it under wraps. They don't want anyone to know."

"Do you know anything about this soldier? Anything that could be helpful?" Talon asked, a sense of urgency in his voice.

Tek rubbed his forehead. "They said she was a woman… I think they said she had white hair."

Talon's tone turned gravely serious. "Where is she?"

"Last I heard she was spotted in Mosse." Tek stepped back and looked down to wipe a glass. "Honestly, Daku, I don't think this is the type of thing to get involved in." When he glanced up again, Talon was already gone.

* * *

**Author's note:**

**Wow. It's been almost 5 months since I updated this. I have no excuses aside from a lack of motivation and being busy with work and school/ social life.**

**I will do my best to update more frequently, but honestly, I can't guarantee much.**

**To be honest, I'll be going to college soon and I imagine I won't be writing fanfictions once I'm there. I'm like 95% sure this will be my last story.**

**Due to such, I'm going to try my best to finish it for you guys and gals. I want you to have closure on the story. **

**Things may seem a little rushed, and that's because I'm trying to get through the plot a little faster than before. Expect a confrontation between Talon and Riven next chapter.**

**Sorry for the short chapter. I was gonna add to it, but I liked it ending the way it did. Leave me a review to let me know what you think!**

**It's good to be back.**

**-RDR**


	18. Chapter 18

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion: Miserable at Best- Mayday Parade**

**Chapter 18: **_**Beachside Chemistry**_

* * *

_i._

_All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost;_

_the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost._

_i._

* * *

"_So let me get this straight… You expect me to sleep on this freakin' heap of a mattress?" Riven's slurred her words whilst falling face first into said mattress. "Is this even a bed? It smells like a sweaty sock."_

"_S'all we got…" Talon's leaned against the wall and rested his head back. _

"_Where'd all our coin go?" Riven turned over on the mattress to face him, the rosy tinted blush of her cheeks becoming evident to Talon for the first time that night._

_He scratched his forehead. "We spent it all on drinks, dummy." _

"_Ohhh. Now I remember" _

_Talon's body slowly descended down the wall until he lost his footing and slid down it fully, landing in a seated position on the inn's grotesque floor._

"_T-*hick*-alon, get off the floor. It's repulsive." _

_Talon shrugged. "I've slept in worse."_

_Riven cocked her head. "Whaddya' mean, partner?"_

"_You don't know much about me, do you? Talon stood wobbly for a moment, and after regaining his balance, sat on the bed next to Riven._

"_Nothin' really, aside from the fact that you're most definitely not military and most definitely are good at killing people." She poked his chest when saying "you're"._

_A chuckle escaped Talon's lips. "I guess you're right on that." He brought his bottle of whiskey to his lips and took a rather large swig; it burned like the recently singed skin of his left shoulder. The only reason they were in this backwater city was to take out a rather annoying pyromancer, after all. "S'pose my childhood wasn't the best and I don't particularly like talking about it."_

"_Talooooon." Riven crooned. "We're partners. You can tell me anything, ya' know that right?" Riven brought her hands to her chin and looked up at him with big maroon eyes. _

"_Well…" Talon, although blood drunk, knew better than this. It was not that he was incapable of feelings… It was that he could not afford to have them, neither then nor now. He learned from a very young age where you ended up if you had feelings. _

_He felt a hand touch his thigh and straightened his back in surprise._

_Riven, drunk as she may be, could see his hesitation and sense his traumatizing experiences. A part of her always knew Talon came from hell. It only made sense. A man that had his capabilities with no military background or evident signs of training only could come from a handful of places on this world. None of which seemed particularly pleasant._

"_It's okay, Talon. I'm here." Her voice was so genuine to him. She sounded concerned. Something he could honestly say no one had ever felt for him before. "Did someone hurt you?"_

_His head hurt. He felt his ears ringing and his chest was heaving. Something was wrong… Why did he feel so emotional? His whole life he had left his emotions buried in the back of his mind and thrown away the key, so why were they surfacing now? Why was this woman capable of _

_doing this to him? _

_His mouth was dry and his vision was blurry. Did his hands always shake this much when he got nervous? He needed to go. He needed to get out of here before he did something he could never reverse._

_But, against his better judgement, he told her everything. _

_By the end of it they were both in tears. It was a night he regretted. Drunk as he may have been, showing that side of himself was childish and undisciplined._

* * *

Undisciplined.

It was a word Talon was all too familiar with. During his youth he learned what happened to those who were undisciplined. He could recount times where he had been careless stealing or mugging and was caught or chased because of it. Sometimes he suffered consequences; sometimes he got away. Regardless, ever since he had started becoming careless as a youth he made it his prerogative to be disciplined. It was rather simple actually. All one had to do was practice putting 100 percent effort into everything they did and discipline followed thereafter. He found that complacency was the bane of talented individuals.

He had become so obscenely disciplined over the years in his craft. He forsaked any friends in the real world and replaced them with something far more trustworthy: steel. His arm blade had become an extension of himself, and sometimes it seemed to thrust so naturally one would think it had a mind of its own.

He was the painter. His blades were the paintbrush. His victims were the canvas.

Talon had never been a technical fighter. Finess was something the slums of Noxus showed little of. Brutality, cunning wit, and viciousness were all more accurate qualities of Talon's birthplace, and it showed in his technique. As Talon aged and fought more skilled opponents, he found that the only way his inferior techniques kept up was through his discipline. The sheer amount of time he spent training was something more than obsessive. Yes, he most definitely had only remained alive this long due to his unnatural amount of discipline.

So why could this woman unravel all those years of discipline in a single night?

A seed of doubt had manifested in him that night and over the months it festered and eventually blossomed into a tragically beautiful tree of bloodlust and confusion. His emotions waged war on themselves in confliction. Part of him wanted to just put things behind them and try starting over with her… But the other part wanted her head on pike. He deemed her responsible for his misfortune.

He lived by a simple but important code: Trust no one.

It kept him alive in the streets. It was the only thing that got him through it.

Trust. No. One.

Why he had told her of things he had forgotten so long ago he could not even fathom! Memories he had forgotten for a reason. Reliving Kavyn's betrayal had not been too fun in particular.

He figured the only way to make things right in his head was to cut the disease out before it was too late. In this situation, Riven was the disease.

So The Blade's Shadow donned his old purple cape and hood and rode hard towards Mosse, a fairly small trade village established on one of Ionia's shores. Surely the Noxians and Ionians would be in a deadlock near, but he paid it no mind. If anyone got in his way they wouldn't stay there for long.

And once he found the one he sought to find for so long, he would settle things once and for all.

* * *

Death and destruction.

That was all Riven could see.

From the moment this invasion was put into action something felt wrong. The Ionian's initial battalion was far larger than they had predicted and delayed their plans massively. It was supposed to be a quick, concise victory at the beach, then a slow push inland, taking more and more of the island continent as they went. With the sea at their backs and a constant stream of resources and reinforcements they would've been nearly unstoppable.

Unfortunately, things had not gone planned.

She hacked through another Ionian as he swung his scimitar her way. It missed far right, and for a moment he stood still before his body split into two separate pieces.

Her initial mission had been to assassinate a few high value Elders, and she carried out her duties on a couple of them, undoubtedly, but Noxus called her back early to the front lines when they found out Demacians had breached their naval barrier. If they could not break the beachhead soon, the Demacian troops would arrive and they would stand no chance against the cumulative forces of Ionia and Demacia.

She pressed forward with powerful thrusts of her swords until she found herself surrounded by six, perhaps seven Ionian soldiers. They pounced at once, but Riven had predicted this. She swung her sword in an arc and cleaved cleanly into their intestines.

For a moment, and just a moment only, there were no enemies near her. She took a second to evaluate the situation. What she saw didn't inspire hope.

This battle, like all the battles before it, had turned into a bloody mess. Noxian soldiers blood turned the sea red, while Ionian's lay scattered in a pile of their own innards. In the distance she saw several fires and plumes of smoke. The air reeked of death. The sun beat down on the soldiers almost as hard as they did to one another.

She saw another soldier coming her way, and with a groan readied her sword.

Things had not gone as planned.

* * *

He was getting close now. The sheer amount of death that had accumulated on the Ionian shore painted the sand a dark shade of crimson. His horse, Kiwi, carried him over decaying corpses and discarded weapons onward. As he got closer to Riven, the bodies got more and more fresh.

It had been nearly a year since they had seen each other. His mind had ached over whether he wanted to kill her or not for the entirety of the year. At this point, he was too tired to debate himself any longer and had decided to take the easier of the two options.

Killing her was the only way to save himself. And, as a survivor, he always made sure to end up alive when all was said and done.

Sounds of shouting caught his attention. In the distance, just under the billowing plumes of smoke and orange horizon, were Noxian foot soldiers. He dismounted his horse and broke into a light jog.

It would be showtime soon.

* * *

Riven's hands, now completely stained red from blood, tried as best they could to put her comrade's innards back inside of him. He released a magnitude of blood-curdling screams but she did her best to ignore them. Without his intestines he would die in a matter of minutes.

Yet again another day had ended the same way it had so many times before. With neither side able to garner any evident advantage, both armies retreated a small ways back to refortify and lick their wounds.

A medic tapped her shoulder and relieved her of the patient. She found a nearby sand bed to lay her back on and gazed upward into the sky. The stars over Ionia were something else. Bright, almost jubilant, constellations that existed from millions of years of chemical reactions. It put things in perspective and made her realize how small she really was to the universe.

With her sword next to her, she curled into a small ball with the intent of getting some shut-eye. Tomorrow would be a big day.

Just as she felt she was about to nod off, her ears picked up on a small whistle. It was the sort of thing you can only hear after years of experience.

Her instincts took over and she shifted her body quickly in a different direction. She sprung up, sword clenched tightly in hand and observed the area. In the area her head was just resting was a throwing knife impaled in the sand. The dark cedar wood and pattern on it looked familiar…

She dropped into a crouch and scanned the area.

It was hard to see; the moon had yet to reveal itself and what little light the torches emitted threatened to be extinguished by the wind at any moment.

With darting eyes, she saw the limp bodies of fellow Noxian soldiers that had been laying around her. Slowly, she walked to one and precariously tilted his head back only to reveal a throat slit so cleanly only a professional could have done it.

She raised her sword and observed her surroundings again. It was so very dark, but she knew no other Noxian soldiers were remotely close. The torches sticking out of the sand did little to illuminate anything. She scanned the areas the torchlight reached-

That's when she saw him.

A dark figure, only illuminated from the waist down, standing 10 meters away from her. In a moment she knew it was Talon. The way his body seemed to blend with the darkness gave him away.

"You killed them?" She asked to the figure. Talon gave no immediate response, but instead took two steps forward into the light, putting himself entirely in view for her.

"I did."

She hadn't heard that deep, rich voice in so long. It was as refreshing as it was unsettling. "To get to me?" Her hands clutched the hilt of her runesword tighter.

"Obviously." Talon still had made no aggressive movement yet.

For a brief moment Riven lowered her sword. "I don't want to fight you Talon."

Talon chuckled. "It's too late, Riven."

"Too late?" She repeated.

Talon tilted his head up, revealing his glaring chocolate irises. "For as long as I've known you, you've tried to save my soul. I don't know why or what drives you to want such a thing done, but it is undeniable that you do. I'm telling you now- it's too late. I've long since succumbed to the darkness. Years of murder have desensitized me. Stop trying to save someone beyond saving."

He took a step closer to her. "Talon, please, there has to be another way."

He took another step. "There is still time for you, Talon."

He stopped. "Talon is dead. Only The Blade's Shadow remains."

Like a piston, Talon sprung forward, arm blade poised to end her right then and there. Riven narrowly ducked under the strike, hearing the whiz of steel as it passed just above.

He whipped around and cleaved his arm blade at her, but she jumped back to dodge. He jumped high and brought his blade down at her face but was met with no flesh, only her sword. Tested steel clashed against runic power in a fight for dominance. Riven shoved him off and took a defensive stance while he charged again. He feigned a swing of his blade and instead threw several knives. Only one found its mark in her shoulder, but it was a flesh wound. She hastily took it out and continued on with the fight.

As time went on, it was clear Talon would be the victor. Riven fought well, but did not attack at all. She seemed intent on not hurting him, but she could only block so much. This was Talon after all. With a few lacerations and cuts, she jumped back to create some space between the herself and him. She looked worse for wear and vehemently inhaled for oxygen.

Talon relished in his small victory. "Giving up already?"

"Talon…" She wheezed for air. "Please."

He lunged again, this time aiming low. She was too slow and his blade tore into her thigh, causing her to release a blood curdling scream.

Talon pushed her onto her back and kicked her sword away. Her left thigh had a whole in it and her vision blurred from the pain.

_Is this how I die?_

She felt tears running down her face. Not because she was afraid to die, but because she knew she had failed Talon. Everything that had happened to him in the Crimson Elite and thereafter was directly her fault. If she had not gone after him in the slums that day none of this would have occurred. He was a tortured soul; a person who had seen far too much inhumanity he himself became inhuman. A person who, for all intents and purposes, should not have survived the slums, but, against all odds, made it out. He had lived through so much heartbreak, so much pain. All she ever wanted to do was help him. To shoulder his pain with him.

One word escaped her lips as a hooded reaper loomed overhead. "Why?"

Talon, about to bring his arm blade down for the final time, hesitated. "What do you mean?" He growled, still paused in mid-swing.

Riven coughed up blood. "Why do things have to end this way? Why can't we both just be happy?"

Talon stood up.

He had never thought about it like that. He wondered what if felt like to be happy. He felt happy when he finished a blade polishing session, but surely that wasn't the same happiness she talked of. To live a life like his wasn't happy, necessarily. Hell, it wasn't even really living. It was cutthoat and stressful. Heartbreaking and painful. Agonizing and miserable.

Was she his happiness?

He remembered the hundreds of missions they had gone on together. He seemed to be in such higher spirits back then, making jokes, drinking far too much, killing people. All together, with her.

Did she make him happy?

Somewhere in the back of his mind he always suspected it. He knew it was her that made him feel alive again. He was so familiar with betrayal, so used to pain, however, that he refused to believe it.

What would happen if he killed her, here and now? Would that make him happy? Certainly not.

Her being dead wouldn't stop his misery. His tormented mind.

When was the last time he genuinely laughed? Or slept well? Or ate right?

He could not begin to remember. The truth is, his life had been in shambles for the last year. He thought killing would make things better, but it only made them worse.

Did he need her?

His mind was overcome with a dark force. A malevolent thought screamed at him to kill her now. To silence his thoughts and finish what he had set out to do.

"I don't need anybody!" He screamed, bringing down his arm blade once again. Riven closed her eyes, preparing for death. She slowly opened them after a few seconds only to find his blade shaking, inches away from her chest.

He couldn't do it.

Riven had always been friendly with him. Always looked out for him. Even though he had been through the betrayal of Kayvn, he could not kill her.

With an agonizing yell, he stabbed his arm blade into the sand mere inches away from her head and skulked off. Riven, left to herself, released a breath she had held far too long.

* * *

Talon stopped running about a mile away from the spot he fought Riven. He fell to his knees and shook his head.

How could things have ended up like this? He was so confused, so distraught. Everything seemed so backwards and incorrect. Where had his cold, calculating demeanor gone? What could be the explanation for the sudden disappearance of The Blade's Shadow?

Just then, large, explosive shocks rumbled through the sand, knocking him to his chest. He turned his head to see a large cloud of green gas emitting into the air about a mile down the beach.

_Did they just drop a chem bomb?_

For a moment he laid there and watch the highly poisonous gas spread over the beach, carrying death to both the Noxians and Ionians. That's when he realized Riven was somewhere over there.

In a flash he was on his feet and bolting down the beach.

If he wasn't going to kill her, he sure as hell wasn't letting a bunch of chemicals do it.


	19. Chapter 19

**Rise from the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion: Do You Remember- Jarryd James**

**Chapter 19: **_**Redemption Comes With a Cost**_

* * *

_i._

_"If there is no struggle,_

_There is no progress."_

_-Frederick Douglass_

_i._

* * *

To live, Talon had learned, was to suffer.

Everyone, whether they be the wealthiest noble in Demacia, the prodigal Ionian warrior, or the poor Noxian orphan, had to endure suffering.

He was no stranger to this concept.

His life, however, seemed to eternally consist of suffering. His very existence started as he hit the ground running in the Noxian slums. He had no motherly love, no tender care, no upbringing whatsoever. It was merely himself versus everyone in his way. That was his childhood. That was his livelihood.

Life was fickle. It could give you everything you've ever dreamed of in one moment and in the very next snatch it all away.

Talon _wanted _her.

And for a brief few seconds, he may have actually had her. But, as the author of his life had sadistically wrote so many times before, what he wanted most may have been ripped away from him. _She _may have been ripped away from him. Again.

So Talon, in an effort to defy his life of eternal misery, sprinted down the beach _into _a green cloud of chemicals and death. The bandanna tied covering his nose and mouth would hopefully prevent some infection, but his knowledge on how chemical weapons worked and affected the body was abysmal, so he was going into this relatively blind. Hopefully he wouldn't come out of it the same.

He approached the ever expanding cloud now, perhaps 20 seconds from its outer reaches. He began to see its affects. Stumbling out of the green smoke came several walking corpses. They flailed burnt arms and screeched from torn throats. Their skin seemed to be bubbling and burning all the same. One man's eyes had fallen completely out of his head. Another was vomiting an excessive amount of blood.

The chemicals held no prejudice; both Noxian and Ionian soldiers stumbled around with missing limbs, burnt skin, or other horrible effects of chemicals. Talon was only a few steps away from the gas now, he gulped in one last large breath of air, braced himself, and entered the cloud of death.

His eyes burned immediately and his eyesight became blurred. Between the thick vapor and impaired vision, it was nearly impossible to see more than a couple feet in front of himself. He broke into a half run, half stumble as he navigated the thick death fog. The chemicals found their way into his ears, his pores, or any other opening in his body and caused an unforgettable burning sensation.

_Focus. _

He steeled himself although his pain increased in severity with every passing second. The amount of death around him was unimaginable. The poisonous gas had done its job: hundreds, maybe even thousands, of soldiers lay dead around him. It became increasingly difficult to run as he was tripping over carcasses of the fallen. The stronger soldiers still endured the gas as they desperately, and ultimately fruitlessly, looked for an escape.

Talon felt an extraordinary burning sensation on the right side of his face. It felt like thousands of hot needles were being drug across his skin and flaying it simultaneously. His threshold for pain may have been near inhuman, but this was getting close to his limit.

Talon, throughout his life, had put his body through a lot. He had been beaten, maimed, shot, stabbed, tortured, burned, asphyxiated, flayed, hung, and many, many more, but never had he been poisoned by chemicals such as these. Yes, his body had developed an unnatural resistance to pain and injury, but these chemicals were bringing him to the brink of that. He walked a thin line, now.

Stumbling forward, he opened his eyes wider to get a better view, but was only meant with green fog and burning irises. He dropped to his knees in a mixture of frustration and necessity. He could feel his body giving out.

Was this his destiny? To endure all that he had, overcome all that he had, only to be dealt death by some elements from the fucking periodic table?

His chest fell forward to the ground, and with it the rest of his body and hope. This was the end.

To live, Talon had learned, was to suffer. And in the end, that's all he was ever good fo-

"Ughhh" His death was interrupted by a groan in the distance, perhaps 5 meters away. Although he couldn't hear well, he knew instantly whose voice it belonged to.

With renewed vigor, Talon put both of his palms into the earth, and in push-up position, began exerting himself. He groaned, yelled, cursed at the pain his body sent his way as a message to stop. It seemed his flesh wanted nothing more than to die, to be at peace. Too bad his mind wanted something more.

He made it to a single knee digging into the sand, and only a moment later was he on his feet. He heard the groan once more, and limped as fast as he could to the source. Each step felt like what they had done to him in the training facility during his days on the Crimson Elite. Each step made him realize what he had done to get here. Each step showed the demons that still rested within him.

He finally found an overturned feminine body and dropped to his knees by it. He shook the white haired commander. She did not stir. He tried to check her pulse but realized he had no feeling in his fingers. He settled on just having faith that she was still alive.

Gritting his teeth, the Blade's Shadow picked up Riven in his arms and shakily made his way in a random direction. At this point, he stood alone in the acid fog; everyone else was either dead or about to be. He trudged forward, one step in front of the other.

He couldn't feel anything anymore but the dull sensation of pain throbbing all over his body. It collectively released wave after wave of torture that shot through his frame like white hot lightning. This type of pain belittled everything he had ever felt before but still he kept limping, staggering, and even falling at times. As long as he got her out of this, it would be okay. As long as he got her out, it would be worth it.

Talon clenched his jaw and walked forward into what seemed like an endless abyss of death fog. It would have been so easy to drop Riven, fall to his knees, and kiss the world goodbye. He knew the reaper loomed close over him. He could feel the tickle of his breath on his neck.

But something had been awakened inside Talon this day. A beast, too long chained by suffering and despair. Too long held in bondage by those who sought to control The Blade's Shadow. He could feel determination running through his veins like it never had before. Pure adrenaline kept him moving, pure faith kept him breathing, pure hope kept him believing. If there was ever a time to earn his redemption, it was now. And he sure as hell wasn't going to miss it.

With every step he broke the chains that had long since bound him to this life of misery. With every step he ripped apart the narrative that there were no happy endings for a person like him. With every step he drove those nameless demons that resided within him to the ground and crushed them under his boot.

The fog parted and he stepped into a clearing. The sun shone down upon a bloody, beaten, and burnt Shadow.

He made it ten more steps before placing Riven down at the base of a brown salwood tree. With a crooked smile he placed a hand on her face. The slow rise and fall of her chest was the most reassuring thing Talon had seen in a long time. She was breathing. She would live.

He staggered up to his feet for a brief moment. He couldn't see from his right eye anymore. Whether the eye itself had been destroyed or it was swollen shut, he could not tell. For what it was worth, he could not care, either.

Without warning he fell backwards into the earth. His body had reached its limit.

With a defiant smile Talon stared into the sky. The sun offered a pleasant warmth he could not feel back in the fog The earth beneath his back was soft. The wind tickled his skin.

_Is this peace?_

Talon drew in a long, deep breath. The air no longer tasted like chemicals and reeked of death. Now it smelt like a summer breeze of petunias. It reminded him of the smells he encountered the first time he had left the slums. That was the first time he had ever strained against the shackles that wretched under-city had put there. And now, years later, had had finally broken them.

Talon's remaining good eye closed shut, and with a final exhale, all went silent.

* * *

Have you ever felt the feeling of drowning before? It starts with a desperate attempt to not breathe in. With all your power, you must withhold from one of mankind's most natural instincts: breathing. Then there's that moment when you cannot resist and inhale a lungful of water. Within seconds, you're coughing furiously but your head is swirling and the numbness is already gripping you. The light starts to fade as you sink slowly down, slip further in, and finally let go.

Now try to imagine the exact _opposite _of that.

That's what Talon felt when he awoke from his chemically induced sleep. Suddenly immersed into the real world, he bolted upwards gasping for air. His hands instinctively turned to fists and with darting, panicked eyes he observed the room he found himself in.

White walls adorned him on all four sides. There was a single door on the opposite side of the room with no window. In his left arm were a multitude of wires and IVs feeding him a variety of odd colored liquids. He was strapped down to a hospital bed, and worst of all, someone had put him in a hospital gown to match.

_Where the fuck am I?_

As if on cue, the door on the far side of the room opened and in hobbled an older man Talon had hoped to never see again.

"Hello, Talon." His voice was as dry and stale as ever.

Talon's eyes narrowed. "Swain." He spat, "What's going on here?"

The Noxian general, wearing his usual brown and green robes, stepped closer to The Blade's Shadow. "So much hostility, Talon. You should be thanking me. I'm the only reason you're still alive." Talon opened his mouth but Swain held up a hand to keep him silent. "Before you ask, yes, Riven is fine. I'm sure you have a plethora of questions, I'll try to answer what I can."

"Why?" He asked.

Swain raised his eyebrows. "Why what?"

"Why save me?"

The General chuckled. "That's not so simple to explain. Let me try to draw a comparison for you." Swain moved forward to the edge of Talon's bed. "Have you ever seen an alpha male lion in its natural habitat? It commands respect, fears nothing, and fights anything in its path. They are quite remarkable. No matter how strange or idiotic the order, the pack will _always_ follow the alpha. It is merely how they operate. Lion's brains are hardwired to either command or lead. This is much like Noxus' military. There is the ordinary soldier that knows nothing other than to follow, and then there's people like me, like Riven, you know nothing but to lead. It is ingrained in us." Swain began pacing, never taking his eyes off of the bed-bound Talon. "However, every now and then, a very, very rare thing happens within communities of lions. Perhaps once every hundred years there exists a lion that is something more than an alpha. This lion lives in isolation and knows not how to follow nor how to lead. For the entirety of its existence it has defied what nature has told it it must do. And this lion, he does not hunt gazelle or zebra, nay," Swain's eyes seemed to glimmer. "this lion hunts _other _lions. Don't you see, Talon, this is you. You are something so incredibly rare it would be an injustice to science to kill you. You are a specimen worthy of study; an asset so valuable I cannot get rid of you! Since I first saw your string of murders in the slums I knew there was something special about you. I studied you and the way you did things. It became an obsession. How could someone with no parenting, no training, no _anything, _kill so easily? How did someone who came from nothing became everything I could ever want in a soldier? I've deduced that you were not born like this, but instead nurtured into it. The slums of Noxus, no matter how much you resent them, are a part of you."

"Nonsense." Talon's words dripped with venom. "I've renounced the slums. They mean nothing to me."

"How contrary to reality. Whether you want to admit it or not, you _are _the slums. They molded you, raised you. Without them, you are but a shadow. A hollow casing of a man filled with nothing but death and destruction. Accept reality, Talon. Come home, where you belong."

Swain eyes scanned Talon for any sort of reaction but the man of mystery held nothing but a seemingly unimpressed expression.

"Well?" he prompted. "What do you think?"

"I think that once I get out of here I'm going to kill you."

Swain smiled. "I expected nothing less from you. No worries, you'll come around."

The Noxian general made his way to the door. "By the way, that acid fog did quite the number on you. You may want to rest for a while."

* * *

A nurse woke Talon from his sleep. He opened his eyes just slightly, to the point where one could not tell they were open. His breathing pattern remained the same. It was all just what he had taught himself to do from a young age. The nurse, a younger blonde with a blemish-less face and piercing blue eyes, walked next to him and began inputting numbers in one of the computers located behind him. It measured his vitals, he presumed. The nurse's name tag, he spied out of the corner of his eye, read "Angela". Her waist was about the size of his arm while her breasts the size of his head. Yup, definitely a Noxian. She seemed innocent enough, if not a bit ditsy. That's why what he was going to do next would work.

The restraints that were seemingly holding his arms down failed to stop his hands from reaching up and assaulting her. One hand went to her throat, the other to her mouth. He silenced her muffled screams and whispered, "I'm going to remove my hand. Scream and I'll kill you before."

He slowly took his palm from over her still agape mouth and turned her around to face him.

"Let's have a talk." The grip on her neck released slightly, allowing her breathing to steady. "I want to know where I am, what happened to me, and where Riven is."

"First you have to tell me how you got out of your restraints." Angela's voice held a surprising amount of confidence and sass for most definitely not being in control of the situation.

Talon flashed a quick grin. "When you live a life like mine, sleight of hand is not just a virtue, but a requirement." His smile faded as his demeanor switched back to serious. "Now, tell me what I want to know."

Angela did not hesitate. "You're on The Subjugate."

Talon's eyes widened. The Subjugate was the High General of Noxus' personal war ship, and as such, was the most sophisticated and fortified technology could offer. It was as impregnable as it was inescapable.

The nurse didn't miss a beat. "Your precious girlfriend, Riven, I presume is somewhere on levels D4 or D5, which are one level lower than this one. As for your injuries… That's a bit harder to go into"

"Explain yourself." His voice commanded an answer.

With little choice, Angela the Noxian nurse spoke up. "Chemical agents affect everyone a little differently. Some may come in missing limbs, others with bleeding eyes, and everything in between. When we found you, you were on the brink of death. Your right arm has lost all feeling in it. The nerve endings were destroyed by the chemicals. This does not mean you cannot use your right arm, you just cannot feel it any longer. You have lost vision in your right eye completely. Internal analyses dictate that the damage to your lungs, liver, and heart is irreversible. Your life expectancy has been drastically reduced. We would need to take more tests to properly give a date of expiration, but if I'd have to guess I'd give you 20 more years, tops. Honestly, you stayed in the fog longer than any person should have been able to. Your exposure readings were off the charts. The fact that we are having this conversation is nothing short of a miracle." Angela looked towards the ceiling. "Makes you wonder if there's someone out there watching out for us."

"No one's ever watched out for me." He growled.

"Fine, fine. I didn't peg you for the religious type, anyway. Have I answered all your questions adequately, Mr. I-kill-people-for-a-living?"

"That'll do." He stood up and placed her hands in the restraints. "Now tell me, Angela…" Talon flashed that wolfish grin at her once again. "Do you like being tied up?"

* * *

With the nurse's mouth gagged and her body strapped to his bed, Talon slipped out of the door to his room and found himself in an empty white hallway. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead as he made his way towards the door on the far side. Opening it with a creak, he stumbled into a dark and dank corridor. Droplets of god knows what fell into his brown locks. He preceded into the unknown with only one objective in mind.

Navigating the labyrinth of The Subjugate was no simple task. Wet steel walls and leaking pipes were his only friends in the darkness. Surprisingly, he found no guards patrolling whatsoever. Perhaps they didn't come down to this level. He had found a ladder leading both downwards and upwards. He descended a single flight and found himself on level D4.

There was only a single hallway on level D4. On both its left and right sides were doors stretching as far as the eye could see. Precariously, Talon walked down it, keeping his head low and eyes up. Each door had a small sign above it that labeled what the room's purpose was. "Engineering", "Technology", and "Coronary" were among the few.

He released a small sigh of irritation. Truth be told, he was more than ready to get out of this terribly unfashionable hospital gown.

After several minutes of creeping down the corridor, The Blade's Shadow saw a room with a sign hanging overhead that read "Emergency Room A". He figured this was as good as a shot as any, so with a deep breath and steeled nerves, Talon gripped the doorknob, turned, and pushed the door open

What greeted him was someone he had been looking for a long, long time.


	20. Chapter 20

**Rise from the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion- R.I.P. 2 My Youth- The Neighbourhood**

**Chapter 20: **_**Neverland**_

* * *

_i._

_I might be a sinner, and I might be a saint,_

_I'd like to be proud, but now I'm ashamed._

_-The Neighbourhood_

_i._

* * *

For a moment, there was nothing. Nothing but silence, and two sets of eyes locked upon each other. A brilliant amber orb stared into dark maroon ones. The atmosphere was timid, as if neither knew what to do. Her white hair was tied in a ponytail behind her back. His eyepatch had long since fallen off, revealing a smoky eye surrounded by dark purple flesh.

For a moment there was nothing. But it was only a moment.

In a flash, he felt the tender embrace of the woman he had risked so much for. Her arms wrapped around his back, clasping firmly, as if she were holding on for life. Slowly, his arms curled behind her back to reciprocate the gesture. She felt so… fragile. His whole life he had seen this woman as nothing less than a fierce warrior, but now she looked like a pristine piece of glassware teetering on the edge of a table. Her hair smelled like a hospital and the blue medical gown she was wearing made her look all the more like a patient. They stood there for what felt like minutes, until finally she broke the embrace and stared up into his eye.

"Talon…" Her voice was somber and full of sadness. "What happened?" She ran a hand up his neck and cupped the cheek just below his eye.

He smiled. "Gas got me, I guess."

"If you wouldn't have saved me, you would have had plenty of time to clear the area." Her voice began to crack. "Why would you risk your-" She was cut off by a single finger of his its their way over her lips.

"Shhh." He whispered. "I can't really explain why I did what I did. My whole life I've been a creature of impulse and instinct, and in that moment they told me to find you. So I did. As for my face, I kinda like the whole one eye thing. It looks pretty badass."

She had to stifle a laugh and grinned cheekily at him. Her pale hands found a way to his chest and laid themselves over his heart. "Thank you. I knew you had a heart in there somewhere."

He grabbed a scalpel off a nearby medical tray and his eye shined. "Not just yet. We still gotta get out of here. We can talk about me later. For now let's go- wait." He had just now noticed her arms. They had both been heavily bandaged from the elbow to the wrist. "What happened?"

She smiled weakly. "Gas got me, I guess."

"How do they feel-" He was cut off from murmurs outside the door. "Nevermind. We can talk about it later. For now, let's go."

She curtly nodded in agreement and followed him out of the medical door. They snuck along the corridors in the underbelly of The Subjugate. Red lights adorned every ceiling and smoke constantly billowed from faulty pipes. They were on level D4 and The Subjugate had around 20 levels above this one. With Riven tagging behind him, he began to realize how tricky this was going to be.

* * *

After hours of meticulously dodging patrols they had reached level A2. If they could just get to the stairs they were home free. Problem was, there were six stationary guards protecting the staircase. If he were healthy, they would be no issue, but in his weakened state… He didn't like his odds.

"Got any ideas?" He whispered, keeping his body as still as possible. When they rounded this corner, those guards would see them one way or the other, but he wondered if Riven had thought of a workaround.

"None other than the obvious one."

He sighed, and with an irritated smirk turned to her. "Then let's do the obvious one."

They bolted around the corner. Shouting ensued from the sentinels, and they charged with their spears aimed to kill. Talon ducked under the first spearmen and flung him over his shoulder. He hit the ground with a loud _thump_. He pressed forward, using his scalpel to pierce a guard's eye. The man reared back, hands clasped over his leaking iris, fingers desperately trying a way to remove the surgical equipment. Riven had take a man down on Talon's left, the poor bastard looked like his jaw had been split in two. She continued, narrowly ducking a cleave and kicking the knee of a soldier so hard it shattered. Talon caught the last two guards by the throat and with one swift jerk their bodies went limp.

They made it up the stairwell and found themselves on the deck of The Subjugate. It was a vast ship, stretching almost far as the naked eye could see. Evading crew and guards, they sprinted to the nearest life raft, dropped it into the water, and sailed to the Ionian shore.

* * *

He had been at it for what felt like hours.

"Would you stop that whistling, Talon? Your horse is _not _coming." She wanted to start traversing the beach with him until they found the nearest town, but he _insisted _on staying put and trying to find his trusty steed, Kiwi.

"He's out here somewhere. I know it."

"Look." She gestured to the sun rapidly vanishing below the horizon. "It's about to be twilight. We need to move, or it's going to be dark, and we have no idea of what kind of bandits roam these beaches at night looking for the weapons of the fallen Ionians and Noxians.

He did not respond, but instead turned to her with that signature wolfish grin. "Oh, we are gonna be long gone before they get here. But we aren't walking."

She did not understand him at first, but then saw that magnificently dumb looking horse bucking it towards them from the end of the beach. A sigh released her lips.

He smugly crossed his arms and smiled. "Told you so."

"Shut up."

* * *

They found harbor in a small backwater town named Kodia. It was a farming town, filled with fields on the outskirts. Upon reaching the innermost part of the town, they found an inn, The Rustic Boltor. Talon walked up to the innkeeper. "How much for a room?"

The greying man looked at them suspiciously. "Any particular reason you're both wearing medical gowns? You better not be Noxians, or else-"

"Do I sound like a Noxian?" He interrupted. "We were just released from a healer's hut down south a few miles. The broad forgot to give us back our clothes though."

The elderly man eyed them for a few more seconds. "Two silver a night." He said reluctantly.

Talon tossed a handful of coins on the table. "That should be enough for a few days."

"S'pose it is. Here's your key." He slid the brass across the table. "If yer' looking for clothes, they gotta' real nice shop about a half mile thataway." He pointed to the right.

"Thanks." The duo said in unison.

* * *

Dressed in Ionian garbs, the exiles made their way to the local bar. It was pleasant, nothing like the taverns and pubs in Noxus. Floral decorations adorned the walls, a woman played soothing music from a flute, the lighting was dim, and the patrons were tranquil.

"Give me something hard." Talon spoke to the bartender.

"I'll have what he's having." Riven followed.

An exhausted sigh escaped his lips. "I've been three days overdue for a drink."

"I'm sure being a lone wolf with a vendetta is a tiring job." She joked.

"Oh, I assure you it is."

The bartender returned with two glasses filled with a dark, smooth liquid.

"Cheers." She said.

"Cheers." Their glasses connected with a _clink_. The duo slammed down their alcohol, relishing the slow burn and rich but sour taste.

"Another." They both said.

* * *

It may have taken a few tries, but eventually they found their way into their room. Riven stumbled in first, face red from booze. Talon shortly followed, grasping at the wall to help him walk. He dove headfirst into the bed and relished the soft feeling of the Ionian silk pillows. She seated herself wobbly on the edge of the mattress.

"I haven't felt a bed this comfortable since I was in the Crimson Elite." Talon remarked.

She giggled. "Yeah… Those bastards may have been cruel, but they had some damn good beds."

Talon lifted his head and glanced at her. "I miss those days. Things were _*hick* _simpler."

She smiled back at him. "They were, weren't they? We had some good times, huh?"

He chuckled in agreement. "Remember that one time we got assigned to infiltrate a Demacian dinner party? Remember what I did to our target with those sticks of celery?"

She looked solemnly at the sheets. "I'll never forget that shit."

Talon turned onto his back and glanced up at the rotating ceiling fan. "We've been through some serious shit too, haven't we? We've gone from you wanting to kill me, to us working together, to me wanting to kill you, to me saving you. That's fu_*hick*_cking crazy."

She gingerly put a hand on his leg. "And I thank you for all of it. I've grown so much in these last couple of years, Talon. A lot of that was because of you."

His skin crawled from the contact of her hand. Was this… intimacy? "Whaddya' mean? I didn't really do much good for you…"

"Perhaps not." Her hand still lay upon his thigh, but now her index finger had begun to move back and forth, massaging him. "But what happened to you opened my eyes. I used to be _*hick* _so blind to the reality of Noxus. I always fought for what I thought it stood for, but in hindsight it had already been corrupted by those in power."

He gave a hollow laugh. "You know, my whole childhood I always imagined Noxus' inner city as a place of wealth and leisure, but once I got there I found it was more stressful than anything I had to deal with in the slums. Back then it was so much simpler with only the occasional guild member tracking me down. Now everything is so complicated."

"It doesn't have to be." She blurted out.

He scratched his head. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing, Talon. Nothing."

"If you say so." He stood up. "You can take the bed, I'm used to the ground."

"No." Her voice was small and quivered slightly.

"Pardon?"

"I said no." She repeated. "I wouldn't mind if you… uhm… shared the bed with me."

"Uh, okay." Was his face always this red? And why did his hands feel clammy all of sudden?

He situated himself under the covers and laid as far to the right of the mattress as he could without falling off. She did the same on the left side.

He turned out the lamp on his nightstand, allowing darkness to overwhelm the room.

"Goodnight, Riven."

"Goodnight."

* * *

The next morning went by without incident. They woke up, went out for breakfast, and soon found themselves wandering in woods a mile from town. The trees in Ionia grew high, at least 60 feet tall. Talon would scale them to keep in shape when he lived as an outlaw here. Now he found little use for them.

Winter was coming. The leaves on the trees had already begun to wither and fall. Frost lay idly upon naked branches. The air was brisk and thin, but also refreshing.

She had asked if they could look at these woods, to which he agreed on the account of having nothing better to do.

"It's beautiful." She said.

"The trees?" He asked.

"This whole island." Her eyes glimmered like a child's. "This place is so serene, so relaxing. I could stay here forever."

He grinned. "You telling me you don't miss the smell of oil, tar, and death in Noxus?"

Her lips curled upwards. "It's hard to beat, for sure, but I think the smell of pristine air and flowers might beat it."

"Speak for yourself. I must admit, though, Ionia has been good to me in the months I've been here. These people are so different than those in Demacia and Noxus. They seem so… genuine. It's odd, but comforting."

"We should stay awhile, eh?" She asked, hoping with a rapid heartbeat he didn't want to leave.

"We should." His eye looked everywhere but at her. It was so flustering to have… What do you call them… Feelings?

"So, Talon, speaking of badass eye-patches… I found quite the selection at one of the local clothing stores."

"But I'm an assassin." He protested. "Not a pirate."

"I get that but what if we made you an assassin pirate? Or pirate assassin? Sounds menacing, if I do say so myself."

He shook his head and grinned.

For the first time in a long time, things were going his way.


	21. Chapter 21

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion- Bartholomew- The Silent Comedy**

**Chapter 21: **_**The Raven's Scheme**_

* * *

_i._

_Power concedes nothing without a demand,_

_It never did and never will._

_-Frederick Douglass_

_i._

* * *

His second in command had insisted on stacking more security. "You know what he's capable of." he had said. "He can get out of anything."

In hindsight, the youngster had been right. Talon had slipped through his clutches once again. He had no clue if more bodies would have actually prevented his escape, but at the least it would've given him some peace of mind.

He had no idea where that elusive assassin was. He could be halfway across Ionia by now.

Of course, someone had to answer for his escape. With so many resources being delegated into capturing The Blade's Shadow, noble Noxian families that heavily funded Swain's agenda wanted to know who was responsible for wasting their money.

Swain watched as his recently promoted second in command squirmed in his bonds. The wooden logs beneath his feet had already passed the stage of kindling and erupted into a steady fire.

His second in command was all too perfect to pin this on. A young, stupid boy that was all too eager to be Swain's assistant. As is tradition, huge military failure results in punishment, whether it be demotion or death always depended on how bloodthirsty the Noxian nobles were feeling.

This time they were especially ravenous, it seemed.

The fire spread up the pole he was tied to as it engulfed his legs and lower torso. His screams and pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears. When the Noxian people wanted sacrifice, they got it.

Swain's mind was elsewhere. The only reason he had attended this execution was to please the public. Those bumbling, drunken nobles would give him money until their pockets ran dry so long as he had someone else to blame his failures on and made a speech at the end about how they all needed to "learn from this".

It was apparent that Talon would never cooperate with him or Noxus again. That much he was absolutely certain of. Why would he, anyway? Noxus had been the point-source for all of the misfortune throughout his life. He had every right to loathe the city and its inhabitants. Logically, it would seem capturing him would prove to be a fruitless endeavor. He was only useful if he cooperated with Swain. It would be a better idea to eliminate him before the Demacians somehow convinced him to enact his revenge on Noxus by working with them. Killing him was a problem in and of itself, however. When he wanted to, he could simply… disappear. Much like a shadow. There was a remedy to this dilemma, however. Swain had been in talks with a skilled cyborg in Zaun that said he could _potentially _brainwash Talon if he was brought to him in mint condition. That would be his play. If Talon would only be his subject through mind manipulation, so be it.

The cadet managed a final agonized scream before his body went limp and the fire rose above his head.

He would never be able to track down Talon; fortunately, he wasn't alone. And Swain knew just how to draw him out into the light.

With the image of a freshly burned Noxian reflecting from his eyes, Swain managed a small, conniving smile. The gears in his head had begun to turn. A sinister concoction was cooking in his brain.

_Run all you want, boy. In the end, you'll come back, whether you want to or not._

* * *

For the third night in a row, she had woken him up with her screams.

If you were to look at Riven, you would see a strong, resilient woman. A warrior to be feared in combat and respected in life. Not a single person could imagine that she had nightmares nearly every night.

It made sense, though, considering all the death she had seen throughout her days. Ever since they started sleeping in the same bed, Talon found her to be quite restless while asleep. She was always twisting and turning, mumbling random gibberish, and then, of course, waking up with a bloodcurdling shriek. He was always quick to understand the situation. He would comfort her, reassure her she is safe, and cradle her head against his chest, until she nodded off to sleep. He could feel the pain she held, and, in a way, shared it. Talon had seen more people die than he could ever wish to count. In his earlier days, death had no effect on him, but ever since he started developing his feelings, particularly because of Riven, he found that all those emotions he had suppressed in the slums began to return. It was unsettling.

* * *

For the third night in a row, he had barely slept.

The streets had taught him to sleep lightly. He would have normally woken up every few hours off of instinct, but he found himself restless when with her. He would see the faces of those he killed. From women, to soldiers, to children, none had been exempt from his steel. This late maturing he had begun seemed to jump-start his emotional capacity. From sadness, to anger, to regret, all reared their ugly heads with a vengeance. The one that kept him up, however, was neither sadness nor anger nor regret. It was the worst of the bunch.

Talon was scared.

It was odd, he seemed to have everything he wanted right in front of him. He had escaped the clutches of Swain, broken free from those that would use him, and had the girl he believed he was in love with right in front of him. Why would he be scared?

Or, more accurately, why wouldn't he be?

His whole life, he had fought with nothing to lose. From the very beginning, he quite literally had nothing of value. That was what made him strong. The rich man would be thinking of all the gold he would lose if he was slain. The father would be thinking of losing his children if he was slain. The soldier would be thinking of the honor he would lose if he was slain.

Talon would be thinking about the best place to bury the body of the man he was about to slay.

Now, he had everything he wanted, and at the same time, everything to lose. He could lose his freedom, his second chance, his woman.

Moreover, he was scared of Riven. Never had he let someone get this close. In fact, he had never let anyone inside before. He was scared that Riven would seem him for what he truly was: a monster. An ugly, murderous, bloodthirsty monster. Riven wanted a man that was caring and cunning, and while he certainly was one of those, he most definitely was not both. It was true, she knew of his past. She knew of what he had done, and accepted him nonetheless. "You're only human." She would say.

Human. The one thing he firmly believed he was not.

How could he? How many children had he taken from their parents? How many parents from their children? How many brothers from brothers? Sisters from sisters?

So at night, he lay awake, pondering over what she would think if she knew the real him. Pondering over when his life would fall apart again, as it had done so many times before.

* * *

A tired groan broke the silence in the morning.

Riven stretched her arms and slowly made her way out of bed. Her body was sore.

_Another restless night._

She looked over to the right expecting to see a sleeping Blade's Shadow, but instead found an empty bed.

She noticed the door to the balcony was half open. She made her way out to and found him sitting in a chair, sipping his favorite drink, black coffee.

"Morning." He said without turning around to face her.

"You know, it really freaks me out that you can always tell when I'm behind you. I even made a point to walk silently this time."

He stifled a laugh. "It's a habit."

"Where'd you even learn to do that?"

"Tricks of the trade, Riven. Tricks of the trade."

She sat down on his lap, which came as a surprise to him, but a pleasant one at that.

"You're gonna' have to teach me sometime." She teased.

"You're gonna have to earn it." He teased back. She leaned in and kissed him, and for a few seconds, they enjoyed each others' mouths, but Talon retreated.

"I have to go to the store to pick up some groceries. I don't know if you can tell, but we're all out of milk and bread." He said.

She pouted. "Can't it wait?"

"It can." He smiled and took her in her arms before carrying her back to bed.

* * *

Hours later, Talon made his way throughout the labyrinth that was one of the many downtown districts of their temporary home, the city Mareen. Food vendors called out to the crowds, attempting to entice any potential customers. He had tried samples from a few different stands, but the one ahead of him had a particularly entrancing scent.

He approached the woman vending it. "Whaddya' got here?"

She looked up and smiled. "Only the best fried sesame balls in all of Mareen."

Talon eyed her carefully. She was in her mid forties, he guessed. Her dark black hair was complemented by piercing blue eyes and pale skin. She was an attractive woman, without a doubt, but he pondered why one such as herself was out here working this shitty of a job.

His eyes fell to the product she was trying to sell. Small, brown little balls covered in sesame seeds were displayed all over her table. They smelled otherwordly. Before he bought, he had to make sure they tasted as good as they smelled.

"Mind if I have a sample?" He asked.

She took one of the many treats she had on display and handed it to him. "Not at all, sir."

His first bite was with caution. The sesame ball was small enough to easily toss in his mouth, but he wasn't going to eat it whole without testing it first. What his taste buds experienced was something completely new and delicious. Soft, chewy, and sweet cake was found on the inside of the little balls. They were just soft enough to be easily chewable, but not so much so that they stuck to the roof of his mouth. For a few moments, he closed his eyes and took it all in, then within two seconds proceeded to inhale the rest of the little treat.

"You're gonna' have to tell me how you made these." He demanded.

The woman laughed. "I would, but then you'd never come back!"

"Fair enough." He pulled out a few pieces of silver. "How many will this get me?"

"12."

He smiled at her. "That's a steal. I'll take them."

* * *

Talon returned back to their hotel room with a few bags of assorted foodstuff. Once he unlocked the door and made his way inside, Riven was nowhere to be found. He called her name a few times, but after no response came, he figured she must be out doing something. He began putting the groceries on the counter whilst whistling a tune he had heard an Ionian man whistling earlier.

He turned around to go to the bathroom. That's when he saw the blood on the floor.

Immediately he unsheathed a dagger he kept hidden in his cloak sleeve. His eyes scanned the floor, following the trail of blood from the bathroom through the hallway and into their bedroom. His heart was nearly beating out of his chest, and he could feel the foreign feeling of nervousness creeping up his spine.

The blood stopped at the foot of the bed, and he found a note laying upon it. He swore his heart stopped when he noticed it had a Noxian crest. He quickly opened it and read it silently:

_Hello, Talon. _

_We haven't talked in quite a while. Have you been avoiding me? _

_Do you wish to see Noxus again? Come and see._

_I feel like there has been tension building between us. I hope that is not the case._

_Do you wish to see the streets you've bled on, or the people you've butchered? Come and see._

_I don't want you to misunderstand my intentions. I've always wanted the best for you._

_Do you wish to see all the people you've met along your path that I've killed to get information on your whereabouts? Come and see._

_You've been running your whole life. It's time to stop. _

_Do you wish to see Riven tied up in one of my dungeons? Come and see._

_She's corrupted you. I'm trying to make you who you were meant to be. The perfect weapon._

_Do you wish to see me let my soldiers each take a turn with her until there's nothing left but a hollow shell of person? Come and see._

_We were always meant to work with one another. Eventually, you'll see things like I do. Together, we'll be unstoppable. _

_Do you wish to see me flay the skin off of her, one inch at a time, as she begs for death? Come and see._

_I suspect we'll be seeing each other very soon. You know where to find me._

_-J_

The Blade's Shadow crumpled the note in his hand and reached under the bed to acquire his arm blade. He donned a black cloak and trudged out of the hotel. He retrieved Kiwi from the stable and rode off to shore.

* * *

Riven's arms felt like they were going to fall off. She didn't know how long she had been in these chains, but it felt like days. It was hard to be sure, though, as there was no sunlight in this cell. Just cobblestone wall and a single torch for dim lighting. Her chains began at the ceiling and reached down a short distance to latch around her wrists. They weren't long enough to allow her to full be on the ground without having to hold her arms up in a straight position. If there was one thing Noxians were good at, it was torture.

Her cell door opened and in came an unpleasantly familiar face.

"Evening, Riven." Said the infamous general known as Swain. He observed the long gash down the barely clothed woman's side. "I hope my pet didn't hurt you too much. I told him to bring you alive."

"He would be dead if I wasn't blindsided." She noticed that the Noxian general wore an armored robe fit with a spiked helmet. "Preparing for a battle?" She spat.

"Most definitely. I imagine Talon won't be too happy about this. I'm taking all the precautions I can."

She laughed. "He'll kill you all, you know. You're dead men walking."

"You know nothing, girl." Swain walked closer. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

"Maybe not." She said. "But even if you win, even if you manage to defeat him and kill me, you'll still lose."

"Why is that?" He inquired.

"Because you can't control him. You never could." She wore a shit-eating grin and stared up at Swain defiantly. "You'll never get what you want."

A cruel hand struck her face, causing her head to rear to the left. Her vision blurred for a moment and her ears rang.

Swain smiled at her. "As I said, I've taken precautions. He will be mine." The Great Tactician kneeled to meet her eye-level. "As for you… Your last few days will not be pleasant. I'll let every man, woman, and child have a go at you… Then when they're done, I'll let the horses have their turn."

She knew that showing fear would only give him more of an upper hand. She had to resist.

"You think your soldiers can handle me? I doubt it."

"It matters not. He'll be here soon." Two guards dressed from head to toe in black armor came in the room. "You're coming with me."

* * *

The underbelly of Noxus' sewer system was not a pleasant place.

Bandits, failed science experiments, and monstrous sewer rats roamed it. On top of that, the smell was un-fucking-bearable. Talon did not care. He made his way through the labyrinth of piping and drainage systems as if he had lived in this rotting place his whole life.

For the last two days, he had only one thought on his mind. Murder.

The voyage to Noxus was painstakingly long. When he had first discovered Swain had somehow captured Riven, he wanted to rescue her immediately. Unfortunately, it took time to get to Noxus. A ship was needed, which didn't prove too difficult to obtain considering he slaughtered the entire crew save for the navigator.

He was here now, though, and that's all that mattered. He didn't have to figure out where she was being kept; he already knew.

It was called the _Bloodstone_. A massive, protruding skyscraper that had been built shortly after he joined the Crimson Elite. It seemed to stretch endlessly in the sky, and it was compiled of blood red bricks and jet black beams. All military matters were conducted in this building, making it the central hub of Noxus. It was its beating, bleeding heart. Packed to the brim with the brightest and most skilled soldiers.

And he was going to walk right in.

No, really.

He knew how to play this game. Exiting the sewers, Talon made his way through the streets until he arrived at the Bloodstone's large, metal doors.

They were wide open, as if they beckoned him to come inside.

He had no choice, so he stepped forward and made his way into the first floor. He was expecting Swain to be elaborate with his choice of where this fight was going to take place. He wouldn't put it past him to be holding Riven on the top floor just to fuck with him.

Imagine his surprise when the first sight he was greeted with on the Bloodstone's first floor was a gigantic, hollow room, void of anything but two other people.

On the opposite side of the room was Riven bound to a gigantic metal "X". Her clothes had been stripped away; her naked body was littered with cuts and covered with blood. Standing beside her was the man that started this all.

"Greetings, Talon!" He exclaimed, opening his arms as if to invite him in. Suddenly, hundreds, maybe _thousands_, of soldiers funneled in from entrances on all sides of the room and surrounded him. They donned black armor and held a variety of wicked looking weapons.

Swain's eyes gleamed and he smiled a wide, crazed grin. "Welcome home, Blade's Shadow."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**As always, sorry for taking so long to update. Fortunately, I find myself to be very motivated, so *hopefully* I can crank out the next few chapters relatively quickly. **

**How was the chapter, guys/gals? After what felt like dozens of rewrites, I'm pretty happy with how this came out. **

**FYI: There's probably only two to three chapters left in this story. Pack up, steel yourselves, this is the home stretch. **

**Next chapter will definitely hold the largest scale battle I've ever written. Blood is gonna spill :D Let's hope I can rise to the challenge.**

**-Ronald del Reagan**


	22. Chapter 22

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion- I Started a Joke- Becky Hanson, ConfidentialMX**

**Chapter 22: **_**Noxian Diplomacy**_

* * *

_i. _

"_Strength does not come from physical capacity. _

_It comes from an indomitable will."_

_-Buddha_

_i._

* * *

Rage_._

In that moment, that was all Talon could feel.

Unquenchable, unwavering, unstoppable rage.

He vaguely felt himself pull a dagger from underneath his sleeve and chuck it across the room with blazing speed. Within a matter of seconds it firmly planted itself in the wall directly left of Swain's head.

"Have you gotten sloppy, Talon?" Swain mocked.

"No." Talon muttered under his breath. "You don't get that easy of a death."

Swain raised his right hand, extending his finger straight out at Talon. That was all it took, it seemed.

The soldiers charged Talon at once. Hundreds of black armored Noxian knights began closing in on him, with every second the distance decreasing between them.

He stood there. Feet planted firmly in the floor, he simply stood there. His face was hidden, shrouded by the cloak. His arm-blade was out, tightly fastened to his right arm, as always.

Hundreds of soldiers were charging him, all with the intent to be the one to end the infamous Blade's Shadow. And yet, he stood there.

They were near now, 20 yards away and closing fast.

He stood there, silently.

10 yards away, they raised their steel.

He stood there, eye closed.

5 yards away, they were practically on top of him.

He still stood there.

The first one to reach him brought down his large battle axe, its ferocious end seeking to cleave him in two.

He stood there, seeming to take the hit without even defending himself.

The axe was inches away from his head. He stared at it for a moment. It was Noxian steel, the same as his arm blade. It showed expert craftsmanship.

_A shame._

Just as the battle axe was about to make contact with him, a quick thrust upwards halted its progress. The man who had charged him, a commander by the looks of it, with a chiseled chin and scarred face, now had an arm blade run through his mouth and out of the back of his head.

His battle axe fell to the ground harmlessly.

His instincts kicked in, and now he no longer stood still, but found himself carving through soldiers by the dozens. He was uncharacteristically fast. No matter how many soldiers rushed him, or however many swung their blades, he evaded and disemboweled them within a matter of seconds.

It had been thirty seconds. Already fifty soldiers lay dead on the battlefield.

A soldier crept up from behind and swung his sword overhead. Talon dodged left and pierced him in the chest. Another two charged him from the front. He ducked under their swings and slit their necks. At least five rushed him from his right, and two came from the left. He ended three on the right with a handful of shurikens to the face, while stabbing one on the left in the gut and fending off the other with his free hand and a clasp around the soldier's throat. The two remaining from the right had reached him, so he quickly retracted his blade from his latest victim and used the soldier whom he had a grip on as a meat shield. The two on his right were mid swing when he swung around their comrade and their blade's found their way into his chest. Talon dispatched of them quickly afterwards with a swift cleave.

There was a difference between this Talon and the one Swain had seen before.

Talon had always been void of any emotion when fighting. It was his greatest strength, In Swain's opinion. His opponent never knew what he was thinking, if he was tired, if he was frustrated. They fought against an unknown enemy. And that is the greatest kind of threat one can have.

The Talon he saw butchering his men was not like that at all.

He was angry. Angrier than he had ever seen.

He did not shout, he did not snarl, he did not fight sloppily. His face was the same as always, except for his one remaining eye. He only got a glimpse of it for a second, maybe not even that long, but he had never seen an eye hold that much pure rage before. It told a story of a youth that had been manipulated for too long. It told the story of a man that had seen his own world fall into destruction too many times. It told the story of a boy that had been forced to murder his own people on the streets just to get by.

He was quicker than normal. He was stronger than normal. He was _better _than normal. Considering that Talon was one of the best, if not the best blade master in all of Runeterra, that was a scary thought, indeed.

The six hundred soldiers he had brought had turned to three hundred within a couple of minutes. The dead littered the ground. So much so, that the other soldiers had trouble wading through all the bodies of their fallen comrades to even reach The Blade's Shadow.

Granted, Swain knew the soldiers would not be a match for him. He had hoped they would at least injure him somewhat, but at this point that did not seem likely. This was not a hindrance, though. They were just cannon fodder and had served their purpose. Talon was mortal, though at times it may not seem it. Even he cannot operate at such a capacity for forever. They would tire him, even if by a tiny amount. And that's all he needed.

Just as he had finished running his blade through a man's heart, Talon noticed Swain stalking off into a hallway to the right.

For a brief moment, he thought he may be retreating. Panic made its way into his heart. Even if he killed everyone here, even if he saved Riven, if he couldn't kill Swain it would mean nothing. He would be chased for his entire life so long as that man still breathed.

His fear soon subsided. Things were never simple with Swain. With still half of his army left standing, there would be no reason to retreat now.

His inner turmoil had not affected his current duty. He continued effortlessly cutting through the Noxians, their armor tearing like paper at the hand of his steel. He was nearly covered with blood, from head to toe. His black cloak had long since turned red and just chin and jaw shared the same color.

He didn't care. He would kill Swain, at all costs.

He jumped from body to body to cross the battlefield, as the walking room on the floor had been reduced to nearly zero from all the bodies of the dead. The Noxian soldiers, wearing their heavy armor, did not have the same freedom. They had to crawl, stumble, and wade through the mass amount of carcasses the littered the first floor of the Bloodstone. He picked them off in abundance, easily leaping around them, expertly dodging their strikes, and puncturing them with his bloodthirsty blade.

The soldiers now had perhaps a hundred remaining, maybe fewer.

Fear was evident on them. The man that danced around the battlefield, slaughtering their fellow soldiers, had been called many things throughout his days. The grim reaper, The Blade's Shadow, the angel of death. Most of them had never even see him before, and assumed the stories to be just that: stories. It was becoming increasingly evident that these extraordinary claims had extraordinary evidence to back them up. He had taken a horde of them and remained unscathed throughout it all.

A pause happened. Talon stood near the "X" Riven was strapped to, while the soldiers stood opposite, near the doorway.

A weapon hit the ground with a metallic _thunk_. The soldiers turned their heads to one of their comrades. He was trembling, clasping at the sides of his head with bloody hands.

"It can't be done." He whispered, eyes madly scrambling from his comrades to Talon and back to his comrades.. "It can't be done! Swain knew he would slaughter us and sent us anyway! Fuck!" He turned tail and began desperately climbing over bodies to the exit. The other soldiers' weapons fell with more metallic _clunks_, one after another. They were bred to fight to the death, even in unwinnable circumstances, but this was just too much.

With an army of dead at his back, and the last remaining soldiers slipping out of the Bloodstone, Talon sprinted up to Riven. He quickly surveyed his surroundings and after seeing no danger was in sight, began tending to his exile.

"Riven!" He shouted, desperately shaking her unresponsive body. "Riven, please!" He broke her metal restrains with brute force and lowered her naked body to his rest in his lap as he dropped to his knees. "Please." He pleaded. "Please, be okay." He pressed his forehead to hers. "I can't lose you. I can't lose you, too."

The white haired exile stirred, her eyes opening to reveal a bloody Talon above her. "Tal...on? What happened?"

He clasped her face in his hands as his eye showed massive relief. "It's okay. You're safe. I'm gonna get you out of here." He took off his blood stained cloak and quickly wrapped it around her, whilst also revealing his bare chest to the frigid, damp air.

She brought him closer, lips just next to his ear. "Swain… has… a weapon."

"What?" Talon asked before he heard footsteps from behind. In a flash, he crouched in front of Riven, arm blade extended, ready to kill whatever came forth.

Swain emerged from out of the dark hallway, one hand by his side, the other wielding the staff he used to walk.

"They didn't even last fifteen minutes, huh?" Swain said, observing the hordes of dead soldiers splayed throughout the building.

Talon said nothing, but made no move either. Swain would not have returned without some sort of trump card, it would be unwise to attack him now, when he seemed most vulnerable.

"Why so quiet, Talon? I'm sure there are a great deal of things you wish to tell me." When The Blade's Shadow made no response, he continued. "Well, you've done great so far and passed the first test. But if you want to get out of here alive, there are still two more to go, boy."

A high pitched shriek came from somewhere above, and Talon immediately focused his eye on the large steel rafters in the ceiling. A mass of black leapt across one side of the rafters to the other. It was fast. So fast, he couldn't get a good look at it.

"It doesn't have a name, but it's been called many things." Swain said. "An abomination, a freak, a force of nature, to name a few."

Whatever was above him jumped again, this time to more rafters opposite of its position, but closer to Talon and Riven.

"It came from a test tube. Some sort of failed Zaunite experiment that took a turn for the worst. It took three days to contain it, but once they had it locked away, I knew I had to have it."

It jumped closer to Talon again, exclaiming yet another shriek that hurt Talon's ears. Again, it hid behind the rafters.

"I've given it enough shock therapy to know not to attack me, and to be able to follow _very _simple commands, but that's about as far as I can train it. I should also mention I haven't fed it in three days. It'll be hungry." Swain stood just by the edge of the hallway, only a few strides from Talon and Riven. "You've impressed me so far, Blade's Shadow. Welcome to the second test."

With a shriek the black mass jumped from the rafters and onto the floor, crunching all the bodies in its landing zone under its feet.

Talon stared ahead at the mass of black and orange flesh as it stared back at him. It was bipedal, with two massive goat-like legs that were easily the size of Talon himself. Its chest was at least eight feet across, connected on each side by large sinewy arms that wielded spiked tips on the end instead of hands. The entirety of the creature's body looked almost as if it was a human with no skin, except instead of red muscle and tissue underneath, it was all black. Brightly glowing orange lobes snaked from just over the top of the creature's chest down to its back. At least six of the lobed sections were visible to Talon, and they all held one individual spike shooting straight into the air. The creature had one solid silver ball at the forefront of its orange lobes, which Talon assumed was its eyeball. Underneath this eyeball was a gaping maw, with vicious, orange teeth that seemed to blend in with the rest of the creature's head. Talon was dwarfed by the monster as it easily towered twelve feet tall. His measly five feet and eleven inches stood no where near this giant.

"Man versus beast." Swain whispered to himself, eyes gleaming as he watched the two circle each other slowly.

Talon had to change up his entire strategy. He _knew _how men fought. He had fought them his entire life. He knew what they would do, he knew what made them break, he knew how to kill them. He had no idea what this thing even was. It could be unkillable.

The creature slammed its left foot into the Bloodstone's floor, causing the metal to bend and break under its weight. It exhaled a long breath and set to all fours, preparing to charge the lone man.

That was all Talon needed to know. If it could breathe, it could be killed.

The monster barreled forward, releasing a high pitched scream. Talon barely had enough time to move out of the way of its pointed hands.

It was fast. Maybe even faster than him.

From the beginning he was put on the defensive. The abomination roamed the battlefield, using its lightning fast speed to flank Talon. It was animalistic in nature, using savagery and unrelenting barrages of attacks to fight. It very much mirrored Talon's own way of fighting.

The creature swung both of its blades at his midsection. This was his opportunity. He jumped over the blows and aimed his arm blade directly for the beast's throat.

His strike never connected.

Just as his blade was about to embed itself into black flesh, the creature's elbow snapped up at inhuman speed and connected with his midsection. Talon was flung across the room, crashing into a cement pillar and cracking it from pure force.

He scowled and grasped his ribs with his hands. He was sure that he was going to get a clean blow. There was no way anything in this world could react that fast.

The creature rushed forward towards him. He couldn't move fast enough, so he brought up his arm blade in a desperate attempt to block. The monster ran directly into his blade with its own blades. Talon was shoved against the pillar, the monster using its superior weight to keep him pinned as he hopelessly held off its pincered arms with his blade. The creature brought its right arm back and stabbed it into Talon's flesh. The odd appendage pierced into his lower abdomen and twisted, causing him to cry out in pain. He brought his arm blade up to the monster's now undefended chest and stabbed it right where its heart should be. It screamed in pain and tossed him across the room. This time he landed atop a pile of dead Noxian soldiers in front of Riven's weak body and Swain's observing eyes. He grunted and got to his feet shakily, trying his best to not notice the amount of blood that was seeping from his stomach.

The abomination thrashed in pain for a few seconds until it finally got back to its feet and released a feral, angry scream at Talon.

This was so irritating.

His blade had gone right through where its heart should of been. Then again, it was not a human, and did not necessarily abide by human anatomy. The only sure fire way to kill it would be a blow to the head.

"Riven, dear." Swain knelt down on the ground beside Riven, whose eyes were glossed as she struggled to stay awake. "I see those anesthetics we administered are still keeping you down." He continued. "I do hope you can at least watch this. Its truly remarkable. This is the furthest I've seen Talon pushed in single combat. Likewise, the creature has never taken more than ten seconds to kill anything. I am so very curious to see how this turns out."

Again, the monster reared its head back and screamed at Talon. His bare chest was glistening from all the sweat and blood that had accumulated throughout this ordeal, and his eye held a raging fire inside it. He had had _enough_. He wanted Swain. This thing was standing in the way. If it wanted to act like an animal, he would have to as well.

It was Talon's turn to release a yell of frustration and anger, an uncharacteristic action for him. He charged the animal this time, catching it off guard. After a second, it happily obliged, and began sprinting forwards on two legs. The two met in the middle of the makeshift arena that was previously known as The Bloodstone. With hundreds of bodies around them, and their defences worn down, the real fight began.

This thing had speed on its side. It had strength. It had reach. Talon knew this. The only thing he had an advantage in was maneuverability. It was faster, but he could move more fluidly and change directions better due to its bulky size. This was his win condition. If he could not use that to its full potential, this fight was over.

The creature swung its blades at him over and over again. Each time, he evaded. Not by outright dodging the blows; that would be impossible. He used the soft bodies of the Noxian soldiers as jumping pads to leap around the creature, making it near impossible for it to get a clean shot on him. It swiped up, but he narrowly dodged by jumping over it. It cleaved at him in an arc, but he slid under it and cut deep into its left leg as he went under it. It lunged forwards, seeing an opportunity to catch him mid-slide, but Talon had anticipated this. Using his left foot, he stopped his slide by pressing it against a Noxian soldiers helmet. He pushed off of it as hard as he could, jumping backwards towards the mid-lunge beast. Its arms were already over him as he safely went underneath them. Just as he was about to clear the monster, he swept his arm blade up and sliced the animals left arm clean off. He landed on his back on a dead body and quickly righted himself. The monster shrieked in pain and writhed on the ground while black blood poured from its newest wound. It turned towards him, angrily shrieking and visibly shaking with rage. He steadied his feet and charged it, while it did the same to him. As the two met, the creature launched its one remaining arm low at him, anticipating him to try to slide again. Talon did just the opposite and jumped directly for it. Had the creature not swung low, he would have most certainly died. It tried to bring its arm up, but it was already too late. Talon's blade effortlessly entered through its silver eye and slid seamlessly into the orange tissue on its head. The creature toppled backwards with him and landed on its back. He retracted his blade and watched as its orange lobes deflated and it gave one last bloodcurdling screech before falling silent.

He dropped to his knee, breaths becoming more ragged with each new intake of air. He used his left hand to wipe blood from his mouth. That's when he noticed the clapping.

"The second test is complete, my friend." Swain announced, hands still clapping together. "If you want your freedom, you have but one more left."

Talon growled and shakily made his way towards Swain. "Enough games.."

"Oh?" Swain smiled. "I do believe that is the first time you've talked to me in quite some time, boy."

"I am not a boy. This city has no room for boys to survive."

"Ah, how true and tragic."

Talon had closed the distance, only twenty feet away from the last person he needed to kill. Perhaps ever.

"It is time for your final test, Talon." Swain unsheathed a dagger that was hidden behind his back. "The first was of endurance." He admired it for a moment, eyes scanning over the smooth steel. "The second was of strength." The old man quickly grabbed Riven by the hair and brought her to her feet while he stood behind her and held the dagger to her throat. "The third, will be of choice."

Talon stiffened, but said nothing. His face had dropped slightly, keeping his eye unseen.

"Make any move, and I'll slit her throat.." Swain said menacingly. "Now, here is the choice: Either you can kill me, but not before I kill her, or you can submit, here and now, and I will allow her to live."

Talon stood still, like a ghost. He dared not to move for fear that it might provoke Swain.

"This woman has corrupted your nature, Talon. Long gone are the days of The Blade's Shadow striking fear into the hearts of every man, woman, and child. Long gone is the merciless killer without a shred of humanity. She has made you feel again, and in doing so, made you tainted."

Talon knew he had no hidden blades to throw. The last one was in the coat he had put on Riven. He may have been fast, but was he willing to chance it?

"Show me who you are, Talon. Are you the man who turned soft after a woman's touch, or are you the reaper of souls, born to take and never to give?"

Talon felt beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. He had decided. He was going to submit. Even if he killed Swain, if Riven died in the process, he would never live with himself. This was the only way.

Swain grinned maniacally. "Do not let your potential go to waste, Talon! You are too special, too unique to lose! I will not stand for it-" Swain was interrupted by a dagger swiftly entering his ribcage.

_Riven._

She had found the dagger in his cloak, and with whatever small amount of consciousness she had left found the strength to embed it into The Grand Tactician.

Talon sprinted forward, seeing the events in front of him unfolding as if they were in slow motion.

_15 steps._

Swain had managed to get a grip on Riven again, and brought the dagger up.

_10 steps. I'm not going to make it!_

Talon tore off the strapped arm blade with his left hand and threw it. Swain's dagger began its descent.

_5 steps._

Just as his dagger was going to make contact with Riven's throat, the arm blade punctured Swain's hand, narrowly missing Riven's face, effectively knocking away the dagger. Talon barrelled into Swain a moment later, knocking the two to the ground.

Talon began punching the old man in the face, each blow as unforgiving as the last.

"Talon!" Swain screamed.

_Punch._

"It was supposed to be-"

_Punch._

"You and me!"

_Punch._

"We were going-"

_Punch. Punch. __Punch._

"To rule this-"

_Punch._

"World!"

_Punch._

Swain's teeth had all been broken, his face smashed in, becoming nothing more than a purple and white mound of flesh and blood.

Talon swung again and again, releasing an agonized scream that had been pent up for the last twenty years that he spent enduring the torture and the pain and the losses and the miserableness. He punched that old man's face until his face was nothing more than a pile of blood and brain matter.

The Blade's Shadow fell from atop Swain and laid on the ground in between him and Riven. The rapid rise and fall of his chest was the only thing signaling he was alive.

Slowly but surely, he regained his composure. He got to his knee and put a hand to Riven's face. She was passed out, but breathing. He brought her head to his chest.

"Shh." He whispered. "It's okay. It's over. It's over."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Wow, I can't believe I made it to the end of this chapter. This one was a mammoth to finish. So many rewrites… So many good ideas that ended up fruitless… my head hurts just thinking of how much time I spent on this one.**

**Dear readers, we are nearly there. I predict one more chapter left in the main story, with perhaps an epilogue chapter or two if you earn it (review the fk out of this plz, I need feedback. I think I'm going through some major review withdrawal right about now). **

**I hope all the fighting sated your appetites. It was about 4,000 words of fight scenes, after all :)**

**P.S. Thanks for sticking around for so long. You guys and gals are the reason I keep doing this.**

**Have a good day, friends.**

**-Ronald Mcdonald**


	23. Chapter 23

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion- The House of the Rising Sun- The Animals **

**Chapter 23: **_**The Shadow's Luminosity**_

* * *

_i. _

"_The world breaks everyone, _

_And afterward, some are strong at the broken places."_

_-Ernest Hemingway_

_i._

* * *

Riven loved to trace his scars.

When she and Talon had first become intimate, she always was first to fall asleep. He would pretend often, but she could sense it; his breathing was uneven, his uneasiness was palpable. It seemed he had issue with falling asleep first next to someone. Perhaps it was the killer instincts engraved in him from the slums, perhaps it was the amount of times he had been stabbed in the back, perhaps he simply had difficulty sleeping. Regardless, she always fell asleep first. Now, nine months after Swain's rampages and evil machinations had been put to an end, he fell asleep first.

Not five minutes after they lay down in bed he would nod off. His breathing steady, his demeanor calm.

It was in these quiet moments that she would graze over his naked skin with her fingers. They say scars make one tough. If this is true, Talon must've been the toughest man in the world. His body was littered, from head to toe, in painfully beautiful marks of victories and defeats.

Each scar was more than fibrous tissue to heal a wound. It was a reminder. A reminder of each battle he'd fought, each life he'd taken, each little piece of hell he'd endured.

She gingerly slid a finger over quite a large scar reaching from his left shoulder down to his lower back. She pondered how he had gotten it.

She knew of some. His eye was lost when he risked himself to save her in the acid fog. The gash over his lower abdomen was from when he fought The Abomination in the Bloodstone. The cut on his left ankle was from a failed assassination attempt while they were in the Crimson Elite.

She was curious about his scars. They each told a story, and there were so many still untold. But she dared not to ask him. There was no doubt in her mind that he remembered his past. There was no doubt in her mind that he remembered each and every scar. There was no hour that the faces of those he had ended did not haunt him. He needed no more torture than what he already endured.

She had her own arsenal of scars, too. Her wrists were burned terribly from the gas. Her legs had many small ghosts of fights and brawls. Her lower back had a lash over it from her military days.

She did not forget the people she had killed either. The lives she had taken and her scars were not even comparable to his, but they still plagued her nonetheless. They were both damaged, broken human beings.

But when they were together, they seemed to fix each other, if even by a small amount.

She traced another scar, this one on the back of his neck. Its angry red tissue stretched about an inch long. Ever since she had started doing this, she had the most incredible of epiphanies.

She _needed _him. And he _needed _her.

He had risked so much for her. He could've been killed several times over while rescuing her, but he did it regardless. She always had attachment issues, but Talon was the first and only person she was comfortable admitting she needed.

And he needed her. For a long time, he wanted nothing more than to kill her. She understood it. His life had turned to shit, even more so than what was normal for him, and from his perspective it was entirely her fault. He could've killed her several times over. But he did not. He held back. He showed restraint. A rare quality for Talon.

These last nine months had been the best of her life. She and Talon had found an apartment in Heiwa, a moderately large city in Ionia. They would shop for interesting foods and new clothes during the days and spend the nights watching the moon or walking through the gardens outside of their apartment. They ate too much, slept too much, had too much sex, and enjoyed life too much. It all felt so odd, considering these peaceful joys were all but common in Noxus. Yet, here and now, it all felt so perfect.

He was not the same teenager she apprehended in the streets many years ago. He was harder, colder, sharper, but also… more thoughtful, caring, and intelligent.

After news of Swain's death had reached Demacia, they promptly sent an ambassador to their home in Ionia (how they found their whereabouts still remained a mystery to both Talon and Riven) and gave them a sum of gold to last several lifetimes and a promise to never bother them again, to show their appreciation for killing Noxus' most influential general.

They would spend it on expensive treats, cute trinkets, and, every now and then, Talon would throw a few coins at the feet of a homeless boy or girl.

Life, for all intents and purposes, was enjoyable. It could be hectic and crazy and fun, living with him, but she would have it no other way. She loved him, after all.

* * *

Talon stretched his arms as the first rays of the morning sun beamed through the window in Riven and his apartment. He lazily hit the snooze button on the beeping alarm clock to his right that read 5:30 A.M. Clasping his arm around Riven's waist a little tighter, he fell back asleep.

The second time around, he woke up to a wet feeling on his ear.

"Huh?" He grunted.

"Shh." Riven cooed into his ear. "Just relax." She gave his ear another playful lick.

"What time is it?" He blinked, trying to get his vision accustomed to the dark room.

"Dunno." She said, slowly snaking her hand down his chest and over his pelvis.

"This early?" He asked, still half-asleep.

"Why not?" She responded while wrapping her fingers around his member. "Don't pretend you don't like it."

He processed the situation for a few more seconds and shrugged. "Why not?"

* * *

Ionia in winter was a thing of beauty.

Noxus had no winter, only a dry season and a monsoon season, each lasting half the year. Seeing snow for the first time in Ionia was as perplexing as it was amazing to Talon. He would have loved to bring some home, but sadly the odd white material melted in his hand almost as soon as he touched it.

Riven had never had the chance to see Ionia in the winter season. Her conquests in the island continent had been during the summer. Talon could barely contain his giddiness as he saw the first snowflakes of the winter falling from the sky.

He had waited several months for this day.

He checked the clock next to Riven's sleeping body and it read 4:00 A.M. The Blade's Shadow had made sure to wake himself up early to check for the snow this day, as it was predicted to fall from the local meteorologists.

He tried to get back into bed and sleep but couldn't due to his excitement, so he cleaned the entire apartment to keep himself busy until finally the alarm clock hit 5:30 and began its spree of annoying beeping.

Riven stirred in the bed and looked up to find a fully dressed Talon standing in front of the bed.

"Talon? What are you-"

"Today is going to be a great day." He said, trying his best to not grin like a child. "Dress heavy, we're going for a walk."

* * *

After equipping a white winter coat, black jeans, and grey boots, Riven exited the bedroom to find Talon sipping coffee at the kitchen table, dressed in a black greatcoat and beanie.

"Why are you so excited?" She asked, wrapping her arms around his back and putting her chin to his neck.

"No reason." He lied. "Want some coffee?"

"I'll take a cup to go."

"As you wish." He smirked.

* * *

As soon as they exited the apartment complex, she saw it. Dazzling, drizzling snow, falling all around her. Her eyes looked to the sky as she stared in what could only be described as incredible bewilderment.

"What… is it?"

Talon caught a piece out of the air in his naked hand and brought it to her. "Its called snow. It's basically frozen rain. Doesn't happen in Noxus, but it happens here a few months out of the year."

She looked to the ground and saw that everything, the sidewalks, the buildings, the streets, and the streetlights, were covered in this "snow". She bent down and scooped a handful up and observed it closely. She took off one of her gloves and poked at it. A small finger sized hole appeared in the ball of white material. It was cold at the touch, and almost as soon as she had picked it up, it began melting.

"Well, whaddya' think?"

Riven looked all around her, at the beautiful white blanket covering the city. "It's amazing." She smiled.

"Then let's go for that walk." He wrapped his arm around her waist. "There's a lot more to see."

They went to many places. The main square was covered with parents and children making what he explained to be "snow angels". The trains at the train station had to move extra slowly to plow through the accumulated snow on the track. The plants in the garden were not even visible anymore, and Riven sincerely hoped they would be alright. She quite liked them. They eventually found their way into the unpopulated forests on the outskirts of Heiwa. Riven had walked a few steps ahead of him to observe a particularly snow covered branch on an oak tree. Just as she was about to move on, an object struck the back of her head. She immediately spun on her heel and raised her fists to whatever threat was incoming, but only found Talon, clutching at his stomach, laughing his head off.

"What the hell did you do?" She stammered angrily.

She watched as he dug both of his hands into the snow then smushed them together, forming an odd "ball of snow". He launched it at her and it pelted her in the chest.

"Hey!" She said, irritation evident in her body language.

"You should see the look on your face!" He doubled over, laughing even more.

She puffed out a breath of irritation and made her own ball of snow and launched it at Talon. It hit him square in the jaw as he was too distracted with his excessive laughing to defend himself.

"Not so funny anymore." Riven countered.

"You'll pay for that."

He made another snowball and threw it at her. She dodged by jumping left before making her own and hurling it back at him. This continued for some time, starting out as competition but eventually turning to fun and games.

Riven beamed one for his head but he ducked under it and charged her. She tried to forge another snowball, but was not quick enough as he tackled her to the snow and held her arms down. They were both laughing on the way down.

His long hair fell onto her cheek as they looked into each other's eyes. He brought his parted lips to hers and the couple embraced in a kiss for what felt like minutes, until Talon finally broke it and fell onto his back beside Riven. The two lay there, enjoying the cold winds and the snowfall above them.

"You ever wonder what would've happened if you took Swain's deal?" Riven asked out of the blue.

Talon frowned slightly. "I think about it often, among other things." He scratched the back of his head. "I don't like to think too hard on it, though."

"Can I ask you something?" She entwined the fingers on her left hand around his fingers.

He stiffened, but only for a moment. "Yes." Was his one word response.

"What made you take the risk? If you had missed, or been a fraction of a second late, I would be dead for sure, maybe you as well."

He thought it over for a few moments, gently chewing on his bottom lip as the cogs in his head turned. "I am a creature of instinct, always have been. Throughout my life, I've learned to trust those instincts more than anything else. In that moment, they were screaming at me to take the deal. To drop to my knee and pledge my servitude to him. To give myself up in hopes of you living. And I did the one thing I thought I could never do. I didn't listen. I didn't listen to the same instincts that guided me through the acid fog, that got me through several harsh winters in Ionia on my own, and that got me through the slums all my childhood and youth. I just did what my heart thought was right, and, as it turns out, it was."

"Well." She rolled over onto him, her ample chest pressing into his coat. "I'm thankful everyday that you did, and you know that I could never repay you."

He grinned as their faces got closer, second by second. "Ah, I can think of a way…" He gave her rear a firm smack.

"You're gonna regret that, you know." Riven said, easing her top off, one layer at a time, until her chest was bare and areolas perky from the cold.

"Sure you can take the cold?" He joked, slipping his greatcoat and shirt underneath him to create a makeshift blanket.

"Can you, street rat?" She countered, slipping her boots off and desperately trying to free herself of her pants.

"I lived my entire life in the cold." He slipped his jeans off. "You spent your childhood in indoor training facilities. This is my element."

Riven, finally naked, tackled Talon onto the coat he had laid down and embraced him in a kiss. Her hands roamed his back, barely clawing into the skin. She _loved _being on top and dominant when they made love. Problem was, so did he. Talon used his free hands to push off the ground and flip her around until she was on bottom and was on top. Without breaking the kiss, he slipped one hand down in between their bodies until he found her entrance and rubbed the area around it with his fingers, careful to not make contact. He was a master tease, after all.

She gave a slight moan into his mouth, but would not be defeated so easily. With one hand, she clasped her fingers around his member and performed long, slow strokes until it was fully erect.

"Really want to do this out here?" She asked, breaking the kiss while pumping away at his cock.

He smiled and lightly bit one of her nipples. "I don't see anyone around… Same rules as usual?"

She shoved Talon onto his back, his erect member reaching high into the air. "If you wanna lose again, be my guest." She stood over him, with each of her feet by his hips, and slowly sat down onto his cock, easing herself into him. They both moaned at the contact.

She began slamming her hips up and down. Each time his cock penetrated her deeper, sending rivulets of pleasure throughout her body. Her hands found their way to his chest and clawed into his skin enough to leave tiny drops of blood in their wake.

Talon groaned at the white-hot feeling of sexual satisfaction and reciprocated Riven's pain with pleasure by giving her ample bottom a smack every couple of seconds that left a glaring red imprint on it.

"Smack my ass all you want." Riven halfway moaned. "You aren't gonna break me two times in a row." He responded by slamming both of his hands down onto her ass cheeks, causing her to stifle a small scream.

This had became less about making love and more about Riven and Talon's ongoing battle: The battle of who had better sexual endurance. They did this often, and sometimes it got quite close as they had similar sex drives. The rules were simple: First to cum lost. The loser would have to do one sexual favor for the winner. Aside from that, there were no rules, meaning they would often use tricks or play dirty.

Talon knew he had to get off his back if he was going to have any chance to win. Every time she dropped her ass down he felt closer and closer to losing control. He had bested her a few days ago, but she had beaten him a lot more historically. Problem was, Riven had him pinned. By shifting her body weight to her legs and keeping his dick far inside of her, if he moved quickly or tried to shift position he might break his dick off…

He mulled it over for a few seconds, but the constant stream of pleasure sprouting from her riding was making him desperate. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, he supposed.

He grabbed onto her hips and, using all his might, flung her over him into the snow behind his head. She landed on her hands and knees, with her ass high in the air. It was _almost _too perfect for him to take advantage of it.

Before she could react, Talon grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed his cock into her dripping entrance from behind.

He went ballistic, thrusting himself inside of her as fast as he could. His member looked like a piston as it went back and forth so quickly. This position was Riven's favorite, that's why this was so opportune. Her eyes had begun to roll up as she moaned incoherent slurs and curses at him. He grabbed a handful of her snow white hair and held a firm grasp on it, ensuring she could not escape.

Riven wanted to move, wanted to fend him off and take control back, but the immense pleasure shooting throughout her body every millisecond prevented her from doing anything but taking this beating.

Despite being in the cold snow, sweat caked their bodies from body heat and extreme physical exertion.

He leaned in close to her and whispered into her ear. "Give in." Followed by a particularly cruel slap to her ass.

"Hah…" She mumbled. "You th-think… this is going… to break me?"

Talon could feel his own climax rising as he took one of his hands and placed it onto Riven's ample rear. He would have to resort to desperate measures and go for her weak spot.

The Blade's Shadow increased his thrusting to even higher speeds, eliciting more moans from Riven. He took his left hand, which had previously been holding her hair, and brought it down to the bottom of her exposed left foot. With two outstretched fingers, he tickled the soft underside of her foot.

She started mixing her moans with laughs as her body began shaking. "Fucking ch-cheater." She barely managed to say.

He grinned and continued, until only a few moments later, when she let loose out a loud, euphoric moan as her entire body convulsed wildly. Once the ecstasy of her orgasm faded, she slumped to the snow and broke the tether connecting her and Talon. The cool snow felt so good on her warm body. She never wanted to move again.

"So."

Her eyes cracked open and she turned around, bringing herself to face the smug assassin standing in front of her.

"Time for my spoils of war, eh?" He took a step closer, his cock getting dangerously close to her face.

"No way." She looked up at him with evident annoyance present in her eyes. "You fucking cheated. Doesn't count."

He took another step closer, his erect member only a couple of inches away from her sealed lips.

"If I remember correctly, the loser is the first to cum. Aside from that, there are no rules."

"Fine. Don't expect me to cook tonight,then." She gave in, taking his cock in her right hand and giving it a few slow strokes before licking just the tip and staring up into his eyes. He murmured a groan which prompted her to speed things up as she took the entirety of his cock into her mouth and deepthroated him. She always loved this version of Talon. The sexually dominant one. Even after her recent orgasm, his demeanor was turning her on again. He grabbed her head tightly with his hands as she sucked him off. When she stopped deepthroating and took his cock out of her mouth, she used the saliva dripping down it as lubricant while she pumped furiously up and down his shaft with her hand. She took just the head of his cock in her mouth and continued milking him until he couldn't hold it anymore and spurted his seed into the back of her throat. She continued stroking, savoring the salty taste of Talon's cum, until there was none left for him to give. The duo laid down in the snow, each breathing heavily and panting.

"You're still a cheater." Riven dryly said.

"I can live with that." He grinned wolfishly. All of sudden he was on his feet and had picked her up bridal style. He brought them to his makeshift blanket and laid down, her body on his side, her arm around his midsection. He brought a hand to her head and gingerly stroked her hair.

"Even wonder what we'd be like if they hadn't assigned you on that mission to find me in the slums?" He asked.

She drew little circles on his abdomen with her little finger before responding. "Not often. I think I still would've found you, anyway. I have good luck." She couldn't hold back a smile.

The two laid there for some time in silence, savouring each other's company and warmth. He used the time to contemplate. These were the days he treasured the most. Each one was new and exciting, holding adventure and mystery. And he wouldn't want to spend it with anyone else.

He loved her, after all.

* * *

**A/N: Woah. Main story is officially complete. It was a long time coming, and I'm eternally sorry for my long hiatus. College and work interfered, as well as writer's block and a complete loss of motivation. **

**I've had so much fun writing Rise From the Darkness. It's been a journey for me. After all, this story is nearly two years in the making. One of my favorite things about it is to read some of the first few chapters and then the most recent ones to compare my writing and my progression.**

**I'm incredibly thankful to the kind (and harsh) words I've gotten along the way. Honestly, the people who constantly review my stuff have been a large part of my motivation. I always wanted to hear your feedback, what you liked, what you didn't, etc.**

**I'm not done with this story. I'm also uploading an the first epilogue chapter along with this one. Consider it an early Christmas gift 0[:^) it also may have to do with how guilty I am that I took so long. It will regard Talon and Riven's journey into the League. **

**Anyway, thanks a lot everyone. I love each and every one of you. Take it easy.**

**-Ronald Del Reagan**


	24. Chapter 24

**Rise From the Darkness**

**Music Suggestion: The Sound of Silence- Disturbed**

**Chapter 24/ Epilogue I: **_**Judgement Falls Upon You at First Light**_

* * *

_i._

"_The scariest monsters are the ones that lurk within our souls."_

_-Edgar Allan Poe_

_i._

* * *

**A/N: This is the first epilogue of Rise From the Darkness. I'm also releasing chapter 23 along with this, which involves the events after Talon's showdown with Swain. The reason I'm leaving this here is because I figure some people will think this is the only new thing in the update and not see the chapter prior to this one. Anyway, just a reminder, let's get along with this~~**

* * *

At first, when Riven had asked him to join the League of Legends with her, Talon thought it nothing but a pipe dream. He brushed it off, not because he didn't think they weren't skilled enough, but because he didn't want to kill anymore. Truth be told, he was tired of it. He had disposed of so many people that he figured ten lifetimes of atonement couldn't absolve him of his sins. Joining a place that's only purpose was to kill seemed like the antithesis of everything he had been working for.

But Riven didn't give up. She would pester him about it constantly. Even he had to admit it had some positive aspects, like meeting up with some old friends, or fighting on behalf of Noxus to push agendas of political peace so someone like him could never be created again. The slums needed major reform, and he figured he could convince the Noxian Council to at least hear him out if he pledged to fight on their behalf.

But still, even after being told constantly it wasn't _real _killing, that everyone would simply "respawn", he couldn't bring himself to needlessly raise his blade. The events that had taken course over the last year had truly changed him.

Regardless, he willingly took a trip to the institute to tour it, at Riven's behest. After seeing all it had to offer, he still stood firmly in opposition. It was only when he had a conversation with two old friends, Darius and Draven, that he was truly convinced.

The trio may not seem very compatible, but they had more in common than one might think. For starters, and perhaps the most important common trait, was that they were all born in the slums. It gave them all a mutual feeling of respect, knowing how they came to be was of a very similar vein. Talon could also appreciate Draven's mastery of the axe and Darius' unmatched strength in battle. They also admired his impressive and likewise terrifying skill with the blade.

He had met them during the invasion of Ionia. An odd time to make allies with Noxians, undoubtedly.

Days before confronting Riven, he had found them patrolling a beach with a small squadron. Seeking to investigate further, he followed them around for the better part of a day, until finally he had grown lazy and accidently raised suspicion, leading to a confrontation.

But almost immediately, Draven recognized him.

He was elated, telling his older brother that this was the Ex-Crimson Elite member Noxus wanted to capture so badly. He remembered their conversation like it was yesterday.

"_Your that guy! That one! What's your name again?" Draven brought a hand to his head, grasping his lion's mane of dark black hair. "Allen? Falon? Talent?"_

Darius' grip on his axe loosened. "Talon."

_The Blade's Shadow had stiffened. If they were about to pick a fight, he was more than happy to oblige. But what came next was something he could have never prepared for._

"_Dude, you're fucking badass!" Draven said, hardly containing his excitement._

"_What?" He had to admit, he was genuinely taken aback at this._

"_Me and my big bro heard all the stories about you growing up! The man from the slums that outwitted Noxus! You're a fucking legend!" Draven's grin was as wide as could be._

"_It's true." Darius added, his axe falling into the earth and his demeanor shifting to that of a relaxed state. "We got through some tough times just because of those stories. Are they real?"_

"_I haven't heard em' all, but I'd wager there's a hint to truth to most of them." Talon responded, lowering his own blade._

"_In that case, we having nothing further to discuss." The tall, burly General said. "All Noxian's have been told to engage you on contact, but all things considered, I suppose Draven and I can look the other way this time." He glared at his men. "And I'm sure my soldiers won't remember this at all, won't they?"_

_They rapidly shook their heads no, and Darius led his squadron, and his very excited brother, down the beachhead, away from Talon._

It was by far one of the oddest experiences Talon had ever had, but he had made two allies that day. Although they didn't talk much, he still considered them at least somewhat his friends. After all, they had disobeyed orders by not engaging him, and he had never seen them again on the battlefield after that. He couldn't imagine that was by accident.

After wrapping up his tour, Riven informed him she was going to catch up with some old war buddies. Talon decided to visit the bar to get a drink in the meantime. It was there he found them.

Draven was being typical Draven, performing insane trick shots onto the dart board. Darius was being typical Darius, brooding by himself at the bar. When he saw the two, he couldn't have pictured a scene to describe them better.

He sat beside Darius, much to the Hand of Noxus' surprise. He explained why he was here, and caught up with Darius about some of the fallout in Noxus after the failed Ionian invasion. Soon enough, Draven spotted him and rushed to his side, jubilant as ever. He eventually told them he wasn't considering the League, and was planning on settling down after this, putting away his blade for good.

He noticed that, for the first time ever, he saw Draven with a frown on his face.

"Yeah, my and my brother tried that, too." He said, staining his mustache as he took a sip of ale. "After the Ionian war, we had had our share of killing. We tried to become ambassadors."

To this Talon raised an eyebrow. "You two? Ambassadors?" He couldn't avoid grinning sheepishly at the thought of the two of them trying to talk things out with other nations. "I'm not so sure I'd ever imagined the Blood Brothers of Noxus becoming ambassadors."

Draven sighed. "For a while, it worked. We would travel to other nations, discuss politics, reach agreements. But that rush never came back. The thing that made us us just… disappeared."

"It's true." Darius said, his face stone-like but with a hint of somberness. "Once you get used to killing, you can't really stop. You lose the spark if you do. That's why the League is perfect for us. We get to keep killing without taking life. In fact, most of the people we kill on the rift are the same people we share a pint with later."

The other benefits of the League had never particularly interested him, but this weighed heavily on Talon's mind. He had never considered this. And although it was true he was extremely happy with his life with Riven as it was, it was equally as undeniable that he had felt some sort of snaking hollowness after he put down his blade months ago.

He did not immediately agree. But, each day after he left, the brothers' words got louder in his head, until he finally budged.

Riven was ecstatic. She probably felt the same way about killing as him, but he didn't want to believe that. Not that it was a contest, but he easily had killed ten times the amount she had. Her reasons seemed more political than anything.

And so their first few days were pleasant. Meeting old friends and making new ones alike. It took a week to get them introduced to everything and flesh out all the technicalities within the rift, like summoner spells, cooldowns, and abilities, but they got the hang of it relatively fast.

All in all, it had gone better than he had suspected. The camaraderie was a nice touch, as well. Most of the Demacians didn't seem to care much for him, but nearly everyone else had been polite, at the very least. He didn't know whether that was out of kindness or fear. His intuition suspected it was the latter.

Everything changed when he had to undergo judgement.

They had told him it was standard protocol and not to fret about it, but other than that he really knew nothing of it. He had tried to ask around but the other champions refused to give him a straight answer. He was bemused.

He stood in a room so dark even he couldn't see its characteristics. The summoners that had led him here had seemingly disappeared, and he felt no other presence within the room, so he waited patiently. For minutes, nothing happened, and he was beginning to get aggravated, but just as he was about to voice his irritation, a bright blue light emanated from above him. He had to crane his neck just to see it.

"**Real name: Unknown. Alias: Talon." **The voice boomed, its pitch deep and words heavy. "**Sex: Male. Age: 21. Weight: 162 pounds. Height: 5 feet, 11 inches. Former occupation: Noxian Crimson Elite." **

He scoffed. "Yup, that's me."

"**Why do you wish to join the League of Legends?" **The voice, seemingly coming from the light above him, expressed with an authoritatively monotone drag.

"Why, you ask? To keep the my old lady happy, of course." Sarcasm dripped from his tongue. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his head, and when he opened his eyes, he no longer was in the dark room. Instead he found himself in a place he knew all too well. The slums of Noxus.

"The fuck?" He whispered. "What have you done?!" He demanded, body language shifting from relaxed to alert in an instant.

"**Why do you wish to join the League of Legends?" **Was the only response he was offered.

"Why am I here?" He persisted, but when the voice did not respond, he made his way through the streets, remembering them as if he had lived here yesterday. He wasn't sure where he was going, or why he was going there, but he felt compelled to walk forward. So he did.

When his feet stopped moving, he came upon a grotesque image. The streets were lined with burnt bodies. Soldiers in black armor rummaged through houses, carrying out unwilling victims, cutting them down like cattle, and setting the corpses ablaze. This all seemed familiar...

"**Why do you wish to join the League of Legends?" **The voice asked again, pushing his anger along further.

"To fix this place!" He yelled, although none of the soldiers acknowledged him. "To fix the slums of Noxus!"

He watched as a young boy snuck into view. Sticking out of sight, the boy made his way to the bodies, avoiding the eyes of the Noxian soldiers. His hands rummaged through the corpses, searching whoever hadn't been completely burnt for valuables. He couldn't see the boy's face, but saw his tattered clothes and grimy white hands.

Talon rage was spiking. What was this judgement even about? Why were they forcing him to watch this? What was its significance?

"What do you want from me?!" He shouted. At once, the young boy looked up, as if he had heard Talon. He and Talon's eyes met and The Blade's Shadow felt his body go numb.

He was the boy. The boy was him. He remembered now. There had been an outbreak in the slums. The soldiers were containing it by the simplest means: killing everyone in the quarantine zone. He was young and starving. Trying to survive. Searching the bodies for food.

He wanted to tear his eyes away. To look anywhere else. To go back to reality. But he could not. His irises refused to move as he watched his younger self rummage through dead bodies for a morsel.

"**Why do you wish to join the League of Legends?"**

"I don't fucking know!" His knuckles were ghostly white as his fists clenched.

The soldiers noticed the boy, and at once, one of them sprinted at him. Young Talon tried to escape, but was not fast enough. The brute grabbed the child by his shoulder and kicked him in the ribs with great force. Young Talon fell to the ground. The other soldiers laughed as his assaulter announced that he "had dibs on this one".

Talon couldn't watch this. It was painful. These were the memories he had tried so hard to forget. In the slums, he did whatever he had to to survive. But seeing it now was a heartbreaking reminder of all that he had endured. This was his personal hell. And yet, he could not stop watching.

Things went from bad to worse for the younger Talon. The soldier punched him in the jaw and kicked his head against the brick underneath it. What came next horrified Talon even more. The soldier's armored leggings fell to his ankles, and his member was out for the world to see. He grasped at the younger Talon's tattered pants, desperately trying to shuck them off the lad.

Talon eyes widened. "Stop…" He said weakly. "Make this stop…"

Just as the soldier bent down to deliver himself to young Talon, the boy raised his mouth to the man's throat and bit down. His teeth sunk into his esophagus and tore it out, bloody and raw. The soldier gave a harrowing scream and fell on his back, hands clutching at his slashed neck, blood gurgling from his mouth. Young Talon put his pants back on quickly and ran directly at present day Talon, but just as he was about to pass him, he stopped and turned to the aged assassin. The two looked directly at each other. The soldiers behind them faded out. The slums disappeared. It was just the two of them in a white nothingness. A blank plain of existence.

The present day Talon could barely look at his younger counterpart. The boy's mouth was covered in blood, his eyes void of emotion, pieces of human flesh still laced in his teeth.

"**Why do you wish to join the League of Legends?"**

Talon's eyes looked frantically around. "What have you done to me..?" His voice trembled. "Why are you doing this..?"

The young Talon took a knife from his side and suddenly stabbed it in present day Talon's gut. He fell to his knees, insides churning with agony. "Why… is this… happening?" He uttered, blood leaking from his mouth.

The young Talon morphed in front of his eyes. The boy had disappeared and in his place was just a blurry vision. The vision was not of one event, but many. His kills. Talon, on his knees and on the brink of passing out from the pain, watched as the vision rapidly cycled through some of the earliest people Talon had killed in his life, all the way to the most recent. His eyes wide, his body paralyzed with fear, the present Talon watched as his entire life was displayed through this vision. He saw the faces of those he had ended. Their horrified expressions tattooed themselves in his mind. Their gruesome ends imprinted upon his heart. Just as quickly as they started, they stopped. The young boy returned.

The young Talon opened his mouth to talk, "**Why do you wish to join the League of Legends?" **He asked.

Shaking from horror, Talon grabbed the young boy by the shoulders and shook him violently. "To kill people!" He screamed into his face. "I joined because I can't stop killing! No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to stop, death always follows in my wake! I joined to kill people!Talon broke. Tears streaming down his face, blood leaking from his body, he had reached his threshold. "I joined because I _wanted _to kill people." He whispered. His body convulsed and toppled as his face hit the ground with a loud _thud_. When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in the white space, but instead in the dark room he had started in, with the light hanging overhead. He reached a hand to his gut and discovered his stab wound was gone.

"**One can not join the League before understanding themselves first." **The voice boomed. "**Do not forget why you joined, Talon. Do not forget who you are. You have been judged."**

Exhausted, Talon's body crumpled to the ground and his world became nothing but darkness.


End file.
